Lonely Street of Dreams
by NCCJFAN
Summary: Set fifteen years in the future. Woody's been in California...Jordan's been married and has a son. When Woody comes back as a Boston detective, what will happen? FINISHED
1. Boston is Still Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing connected to Crossing Jordan. If I did, do you think I'd still be teaching school? Don't think so. **

**And how long is it until Season Five starts?**

* * *

**Of all the stories I write, the ones that bring the most response are the ones that are set in the future. After a flurry of requests for another one set ahead in time, I've complied. But this one is a little different. It's set quite a bit ahead in time…more than fifteen years.**

**Enjoy…I hope.**

**

* * *

****Chapter One**

**Boston Is Still Home**

The sun glinting off the wings of the airplane made him squint as he looked out the window to the landscape below. Sandy shores and green meadows. The blue-gray surface of the Atlantic Ocean…a sharp contrast to the clearer blue of the Pacific Ocean that he had seen daily for the past sixteen years. The cold Atlantic…the Boston Harbor. Funny, when he had flown out of Massachusetts years ago, he never thought he would return. Ever.

Then a phone call to his San Diego office brought him back home. Home. Despite the decade plus he had spent in California, in his mind he still called Boston home. Maybe because that was the first place he ever felt he belonged. As a matter of fact, when anyone in his field office asked where he was from, he responded, "Boston."

And their response was generally the same. "Funny. You don't sound like you're from Boston." Then would give them his best dimpled grin and tell them he had been in California a long time.

But a call from the Boston Police Department had brought him back. There was a position open…he would be over the detectives…particularly the homicide detectives. Was he interested?

He had thought long and hard. As a matter of fact, he had spent a weekend walking the California beach and thinking about it. San Diego had been good to him. Working with Sunny D had been a dream come true. But he was older now. Forty-eight to be exact. His hair was graying, but thank God at least it was still _there_. His eyes were just as blue and his dimples still flashed when he smiled just right.

He was single, no children, completely unattached, and longing for a slower life. Boston offered that. It might also offer the renewing of old friendships. While he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to keep in touch with co-workers and friends, he still occasionally heard from them and saw a few at conferences. Those folks…Winslow, Framus, Santana, Bug, Nigel, Garret, Sydney…had seemed more like family than just friends. A part of him longed for that feeling again. He had learned that people in Sunny D were too transient … too focused only on solving the cases … to be anything more than co-workers.

So it really wasn't as big a decision as everyone made it out to be. He resigned his post in San Diego, giving them a month's notice. Sold his house. Had his household goods loaded on a delivery truck that would meet him in Boston, and flew away from the Pacific shore back to the snowy arms of a city he thought he would embrace again.

"_Are you sure you know what you're doing?"_ Framus had asked him over the phone.

"_Hell, no. I'm still flying by the seat of my pants," _he replied.

"_I guess age hasn't taught you a damn thing…."_

"_Not a thing." _He had chuckled along with the female detective.

"_Seriously, Hoyt…it's not the same here…."_

"_I don't expect it to be."_

"_Good. Just….be prepared. Okay?"_

He had thought that last comment odd. _"Sure….I'm coming with no preconceived ideas or expectations."_

There had been silence from Roz for a moment. _"I'm looking forward working with you again."_

"_Likewise…"_

And from what he understood, Jordan was still in Boston, too. Chief ME now that Garret had retired. That was a definite attraction. Not that he expected things to be the same between them. Sixteen years was a long time. Her last name wasn't even Cavanaugh any longer. She had married. She may still even be married….he would find out soon enough.

The seatbelt sign flashed on overhead. He buckled and prepared to land.

* * *

"Morning, Love," greeted Nigel as Jordan stepped off the elevator.

"Morning to you, too. Coffee on?"

"Indeed. Good weekend?"

"Busy…"

"Well, idle minds are the devil's workshop, you know…"

"I'd give anything to find out. I haven't had idle time…in God knows when."

"Not for the last seventeen or so years?"

Jordan grinned. "Pretty much."

"So how did young William do at the soccer game?"

"Scored two goals, banged up his knee, and had his heart broken by one of the cheerleaders who said she couldn't go out with him on Saturday night."

Nigel grinned. "A young lady that _wouldn't_ go out with our young Will?"

"I know…a first. I think she had some sort of family thing going on…Will was disappointed."

"And you gave him the whole 'family-before-friends' lecture, all the time thinking she wasn't good enough for your baby anyway, right?"

Jordan felt the corners of her mouth kicking up again. "You know me too well, Nige. Tell everyone I need them at the morning meeting in fifteen minutes."

Nigel nodded and went to round up the rest of the staff. Jordan unlocked her office, hung up her coat and began putting up her things. As she opened her brief case to take out some files, her teenage son's picture sitting on her desk caught her eye. William Maxwell Turner. Her baby, her young man, her God-send….her reason she got up every morning and kept going … Will was all that and more. Since Jason had been killed in the Iraqi War and her father had passed away, Will was the only immediate family she had left that she was directly related to. She had always considered her morgue co-workers more like family than employees…but Will was her only blood-kin. A tall young man, slender, with above average intelligence, he had been Jordan's salvation after losing the two other men in her life.

She had met Jason at a party…nearly fifteen years ago. A quiet man, Jordan had found in him the stability she needed in her life. They had begun dating…and six months afterwards, had married, much to the shock and surprise of family and friends. They had slipped away for the weekend, under the pretext of having some "alone" time together.

Instead, she had returned as Mrs. Jordan C. Turner…and Jason had been shipped back to Iraqi. Only she and Jason knew he had his orders to leave…that was the reason they had gone ahead and gotten married. Jason wanted her as his wife when he returned.

Only he didn't come back…at least not alive. His remains had been returned to her with full military honors almost a year later. It was tough being a war widow. It was even tougher being a single mom.

But with Max's assistance, along with Garret's and everyone else's help at the morgue, she had done it. William never lacked for male influence. Before Max had passed away seven years ago with a heart attack, he had played the father/grandfather role with great affection. Since that time, Garret, Nigel, Bug, Sydney, and a few male police officers that were close friends had stepped in regularly to play the parts in Will's life that needed a man's touch … roles that Jordan couldn't fill or that Will didn't feel comfortable letting her play.

And somehow, it had all worked out. Her son was now in high school…at the top of his class….his favorite subject was science, although he liked math, too. He was part scholar, part athlete, part Casanova.

And all boy. Jordan smiled at her son's photo one more time before walking into the conference room for staff meeting.


	2. Rules Are Made To Be Broken

**Chapter Two**

**Rules are Made to be Broken**

_Jesus, Framus wasn't kidding…more has changed than I ever dreamed about. How'd the Boston PD get more red tape than it did when I was here?_

That thought kept running through Woody's mind as he set up his office and began to re-learn all the procedures and paperwork that the precinct now had. By the time he had reviewed his fifteenth form, he had crystallized in his mind that one of the first goals he had in mind was developing his own paperwork reduction act for the police. Sunny D didn't have this many rules, regs, and forms.

The other thing that Woody was mulling over in his mind was simply the concept of _change_ itself. Coming back to Boston for Woody was sort of like his first trip back to Wisconsin after he had moved away. Kewuanne was familiar…it was warm….it was home. It wasn't supposed to change.

But it did. He remembered how he felt when he returned to his Aunt Marge's to find she had sold the childhood bunk beds that he had shared with Cal and turned their bedroom into a storage area – the sanctity of his childhood had been irrevocably violated.

He was feeling the same way about the precinct. It had been gutted and re-constructed years ago…well after Woody had left. The detectives' room he had been used to was now burglary. Homicide was in a completely different wing with a completely different layout. His desk was at the "hub" and all of the detectives he supervised swirled out from that area like spokes in a wheel. There was little privacy.

But then again, there was little chance of division among the ranks with a layout like that. It was open. It kept folks honest.

And the detectives themselves…apart from Capri, Framus, Carver, Seely, and Cruz … it seemed they were barely out of high school. Or at least that was the way they appeared. Woody wondered if he had ever looked that young and green in Boston.

Swearing softly, he knew he did. He had been a country rube, but it hadn't taken Boston and _her_ long enough to put some brass and polish on his belt. When he left over fifteen years ago, there was nothing about him that indicated he had ever grown up in backwoods Wisconsin. As a matter of fact, other than his direct supervisor at Sunny D, no one had ever known he was from the cheese state.

"Hey….what do you think about all this?" came a boisterous voice from behind him.

"Roz….let me look at you."

Roz strutted like a super model for a minute then turned so he could see her from behind, too. "Is this enough? Are you through?'

Woody laughed and hugged the woman. "You're lookin' good, Roz."

"As are you, Detective." She plopped down on the edge of his now-clean desk. "So….what do you think?'

"That Thomas Wolfe was right."

Roz raised an eyebrow. "You mean you can't go home again?"

Woody nodded. "You were right, too. How do you keep the paperwork straight?"

Roz walked over to her desk on Woody's right and flipped open a chart. It had a diagram filled with boxes and arrows that showed her what form to fill out when and under what conditions. Woody groaned. "At least, being in charge, I can delegate."

"At least being in charge, you have to review _each_ and _every_ form."

Woody groaned again. "How's the group? Does everyone work and play well together as detectives?'

"For the most part, yeah. There are a few cliques….some here are too green in my opinion to be homicide. They need to be back on narcotics or burglary, but that's not my call."

Woody nodded. "Were we ever that young?" he asked, indicated a detective across the room.

Roz laughed. "Yeah…believe it or not we were. So how's Boston feeling on your tanned California hide?"

"I can't believe it was ever this cold here."

Roz grinned again. "And it's only October….So it looks like you're settled in here. When are you going to see _her_ or have you already?"

"Her?"

Giving him her best "I-can't-believe-you're-that-dumb" look, she said, "Her. Jordan. Dr. Turner. Chief ME."

Sighing, Woody rubbed the back of his neck. Truthfully a part of him had wanted to waltz through the doors of the morgue as soon as his Corvair his Boston.

Another part of him wanted to avoid it for at least another twenty-four hours.

And avoidance was winning. But he had to go and re-introduce himself to her. Since he was now over the homicide department, he knew he would be working with her nearly exclusively from the rest of the ME's. Only she would handle the high-profile stuff he would have to get directly involved with.

Hopefully that would only happen occasionally. And maybe it would help that she was now married and unavailable.

Besides, after all this time, who would believe anything would be left between them anyway. Once he had flown out of Boston, they had experienced no contact with each other by mutual choice. That…and a few, heated words.

Okay…more than a few heated words.

Giving Roz a wary look, he said. "No. Not yet. Thought I'd make my way over there after lunch. Want to come?"

"What for? To ride point? I don't think so. I have other things to do, Detective." She jumped off the side of his desk. "Anyway….I might like a ring-side seat to what might happen between you two…but I'll be damned if I play referee." She grabbed her jacket and began to walk towards the door. "Have a great day, Woody. Call me if you need me….but not to go cover your ass at the morgue."

Woody gritted his teeth and grabbed his own jacket. Putting it on and shoving his new ID into his pocket, he left the precinct building and crossed the street to the morgue

* * *

The fever to renovate all the downtown buildings had also caught the morgue in the crosshairs. There was little for Woody to recognize here, either. He stopped at the directory in the lobby and grinned. Garret must have finally gotten rid of the gift shop he detested…Woody didn't see the tacky establishment anywhere. Nigel was here…as was Bug…and Sydney…and Peter was back. That was good. At least there was one person at the morgue who didn't hate him because of what was said between himself and Jordan when he left.

He had never deemed Nigel to be a violent man, but the Brit had threatened to kill him before he had flown out of Boston. Woody hoped enough time had passed that the threat and their memories had dimmed….or at least softened a little. He glanced at the listing one more time. The morgue had the basement…and floors seven, eight, and nine. Her office was on the ninth floor. He rode the elevators up, hoping that they hadn't been changed. If they were still as slow as they used to be, he would have a good few minutes to rehash what he was going to say to her.

And if he was really lucky, maybe he'd get stuck.

He wasn't lucky. The first person he ran into was Nigel. Still tall…still thin…still pale…a few strands of gray now in his long hair, that had grown out enough that he kept it pulled back in a pony tale. "Nigel?" Woody said, hopefully…

"Woody….I heard you were back….we all did. Good to see you, mate." Nigel stuck out his hand.

Woody mentally let out a sigh of relief. All the anger seemed to at least be gone. "How are you….and how are things going?" Woody asked.

"Good….really good. But Jordan's sent me out on a field call. I've got to run right now…but drinks later this week? We'll catch up. I'll bring my wife."

"Your wife?"

Nigel grinned. "Yeah. Kate. Seven years ago August."

"Good for you."

"Thanks. Two kids, too."

Woody shook his head. Too much had happened for him to cognitively fathom at the moment. His emotions were on overload.

"Oh, by the way…her office is at the end of the hall."

"How did you know…."

"We all figured you'd be by to re-establish your connections before the week was out. See you." And with that Nigel was in the elevators and was whisked out of Woody's sight. He began the long walk down the hall by himself.

He knew it was close to five….so most of the offices were deserted. He could see her through the glass of her observation window. Her hair was still long, although not quite as long as he remembered. It was still wavy. And despite the fact that her back was to him, he could tell her figure had filled out. She was at least a size seven now. But he liked the change. She looked more womanly…softer. He tapped lightly at her door. "Dr. Turner?"

Jordan turned towards the noise. Woody held his breath.

"Lieutenant Hoyt. I've been expecting you." Her voice held a note of softness that her figure did. She held out her left hand for him to shake. "And please…it's still just Jordan."

He smiled. "And it's Woody…okay?"

She nodded. "Sure."

There was that awkward pause he had been dreading. If her mind was remembering anything about their last time together, her face gave no hint. "So….how does it feel to be chief ME?" he finally asked.

"Too much responsibility and not enough pay. Have a seat, Woody." She motioned towards her couch. She remained standing, propped against the front of her desk. "Glad to be working with you again. Framus told me she had warned you how much things had changed?"

Woody nodded.

"I still get lost in this building now…you'd think I never would…after working here so long, but after the renovations, nothing looked the same. Nothing was the same." She gave him a meaningful look.

He took it as a hint. "I'm glad to be back…I just hope we can work together like we did before …" he swallowed the rest of the sentence.

Jordan held a hand up to stop him. "I don't see any reason why we can't…as long as we let the past stay in the past. That was what…almost sixteen years ago? We are different people now….different relationships…different…well, different everything. Can I make a suggestion?"

"Um…yeah." She always did know how to make him tongue-tied.

"Let's start fresh…like we've never worked together. I don't imagine it will be too hard to do, seeing as we've had no contact for so long. But this time, we know there are boundaries."

"Boundaries?"

"You haven't read the new state handbook, have you?"

Woody shook his head. It was on his to do list, but as of the present, there had been too much "to do" to read it.

"One of the parting gifts of Slokum's reign of terror was a new Massachusetts State Employee Handbook. People working for the state aren't supposed to have 'inner office relationships'."

Woody gave her a disbelieving glance. "And this works?"

Jordan nearly smiled. As closely as everyone worked together with the police and the morgue, she, as well as every other supervisor, knew that this rule was overlooked and ignored as soon as Slokum was sent packing by the governor.

But Woody didn't know this.

"It works well." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if daring him to challenge her. "So….you know there are boundaries now that you can't cross."

"And you can't either."

She nodded. "I don't want to."

"Okay…I get your drift, Dr. Turner. Like you said, fifteen plus years away from each other is a long time. I think I understand the boundaries…and you have no worries. We will have only a professional relationship."

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I have somewhere I need to be." She grabbed her pocketbook and jacket from her chair. Woody followed her out and waited until she locked her office door. Then he rode the elevator down with her to the lobby, propped against a wall, casually observing her. She hadn't changed that much. Her hair was still the same chestnut color. She could be warm one minute and abrasive the next.

But she was still made his breath catch when he looked at her. And her eyes…damn…they still made him weak in the knees.

And he still fought that feeing she left in his gut … the one that made him want to forget anything else he had to do and just protect her.

But something had changed about the lady. Despite her almost cold comments to him, she was somehow soft, gentler … _warmer_ that he ever remembered her being. He wondered what had caused it.

Couldn't be her marriage. She wore no rings. So she was divorced.

The elevator stopped at the lobby. She turned to him before she got off. "Good night, Woody," she said as she stepped out of the car and headed out the exit, turning left and going to her parking deck.

Fifteen plus years had changed him…and her, too. But if he would wager, he would bet she had changed more than he had.

Whistling softly, he crossed the street back to his office. No rings on her fingers, but a bunch of regulations to keep them apart. He smiled to himself. If the years spent with Jordan Cavanaugh had taught him one thing…it was that rules were made to be broken.


	3. Just You and Me, and Baby Makes Three

**Chapter Three**

**Just You and Me….and Baby Made Three.**

Jordan entered her house, shut the door behind her, leaned against it, and closed her eyes. God, she was tired. It had been a long day at work. A drowning. Three homicides. A hit and run involving a three year-old. Will's soccer game after work.

And seeing Woody again.

She felt like emotionally someone had pulled the plug on her world and allowed every drop of energy she had to drain out her toes. She cracked open one eye and surveyed her watch. Seven-thirty. And there was still laundry and supper to do. Groaning she pulled away from the door and dropped her jacket, pocketbook, and brief case on the rack in the entry way. She wearily pulled a Stouffer's frozen lasagna from the freezer and put it in the oven. Grabbing a bag of salad mix out of the refrigerator, she heard Will come through the back of the house. "Don't leave your muddy cleats on the porch," she called. "Remember what happened last time?"

She heard her son laugh. "Yeah, Mom. I remember." A neighbor's dog had dragged them off and chewed them up. Will received a lecture about "being responsible for you're own things," and had to buy the replacement pair with his own money. An expensive endeavor by a teenager's standards for his size thirteen feet.

Will came through the kitchen, muddy cleats thrown over his shoulder, hanging by the laces. He walked over to the sink where his mother was rinsing the lettuce and kissed her on the cheek. "So…do you think UniMass might be interested in me in a couple of years?"

"If you keep scoring goals like you did tonight, the University of Massachusetts will be one of many on the list who will be courting you," Jordan replied trying not to let the catch in her voice be heard.

But Will knew. And he was well aware of the fact that while his mother was very excited about his future – one she hoped he would share her love of medicine and science in – she also didn't like to talk about him growing up and leaving home. He side-stepped any other discussion and turned to leave the kitchen. "I'm gonna shower, and hit the books. I've got enough Algebra II homework to…." He left off the rest of the sentence as his ringing cell phone caught his attention. Jordan smiled at her son as he made his way up stairs, taking them two at a time, to his bedroom…talking to some girl named _Mandy?_ That was a new one. She grimaced and returned to finishing the salad.

Her baby was growing up and she knew it. In a few short years, it would just be her and a Lean Cuisine for dinner. She dreaded the thought.

So did Will. In his honest, abrupt, not-so-subtle way, he had begun to encourage his mother to date. In his mind, Will knew it had just been him and his mom for fifteen years. But he was growing up and now she needed someone besides her son in her life.

She was resisting…he was insisting….threatening to fix her up with various fathers of his friends…divorced school teachers he had…If only her social life was that simple.

The reality was Jordan didn't want another man in her life. Part of her said she didn't need one. She had her job…which was forty-plus hours a week. She had her tennis, her running, and …of all things….her quilting. She had her life framed by enough people and events that she was seldom not involved with something and had enough friends that she never had to be alone if she didn't want to be.

But that wasn't the whole truth. The truth was she was afraid of another relationship. With the exception of Nigel, every close relationship she had gone through with a man had ended disastrously. Even after her father returned from his global wanderings, their relationship had never been the same. From that point on, Jordan always had second-guessed anything Max had told her. How much of it was the truth? And she never shook the feeling that one day she would wake up and he would be gone again out of her and Will's life.

Same thing with Garret. After Slokum's "Reign of Terror," she had always wondered if there were other skeletons in her friend's closet that would nearly cost her her career.

But she and Garret had worked through it. They remained friends. He was Will's godfather. And at least she never had to worry about him taking off to chase a dream, his version of the truth, or ghosts from his past.

And then there was Jason. Her wonderful, sweet, beloved Jason. She had met him at a party – a single-mingle sort of thing hosted by one of the downtown Boston bars – back when Woody was still in Boston, but not speaking to her. It seemed they had done nothing but argue since he had gotten out of the hospital from the sniper shooting. Jordan had told herself that she had finally endured enough of his dictating attitude and hurtful words. If he was moving on…so should she.

Enter Jason into her life. He was a great guy. They clicked. He never pushed her away. He respected what she did.

He was also a marine in Uncle Sam's troops and knew he'd be on his way back to Iraq soon. "If we can make it to December 2005 when they're supposed to ratify their Iraq constitution and we begin turning more of the control of their country over to their own armed forces, we'll be okay," Jason had told her. "Meanwhile….I'd like to leave Boston knowing my ring is on your finger and we have the same last name….and that the baby does, too," he had said, placing his hand on her still-flat abdomen.

Jordan had thought about it all of two seconds. In an uncharacteristic move of trust, she had said yes. Her gut had told her Jason was a safe man…a good man….a steady man…a man that loved her.

The type of man she needed after Woody.

Sheand Jason had slipped off to Vegas one weekend and when she returned…she was Mrs. Jordan C. Turner and her blue-eyed soldier was flying back to Baghdad.

Three months later she got the horrible visit from US Marine officials who told her that Jason was dead. Killed in the line of duty -- a hero, but now one more man who was gone out of her life forever. She made funeral arrangements, with full military honors.

Then scarcely five months later, William Maxwell Turner entered her life on a snowy evening right before Thanksgiving. Jordan had no time to really grieve the loss of Jason before Will made his entrance. Born just a little early, he spent the first two weeks of his life in a critical care nursery. He was more than five days old before Jordan even got to hold her son.

She'd never forget the day the nurse carefully laid Will in her arms, moving the myriad of tubes and wires out of the way. Jordan had softly spoken to her son and Will turned his head at the sound and opened his big blue eyes and gazed at his mother. Jordanlhad lost her heart all over again. Will had her wrapped around his little finger from that moment on. He still did. He always would. The oven timer buzzing brought Jordan out of her trip down memory lane. She mentally shook herself as she pulled the lasagna from the oven and set the table. "William…." She called up the stairs. "William Maxwell Turner….dinner's ready."

"Be right down, Mom." And a few minutes later her tall, hazel-eyed son took his seat at the kitchen table. Jordan smiled at him as they reached for each other's hands to hold while Will asked the blessing. William had her hair, but a combination of his mother's and his father's eyes. Blue with lots of gold-flecks.

"I'm never going to finish that Algebra II crap tonight," Will murmured after he had said Amen.

"Just do the best you can. I'm sure that will be enough."

"Not for old man Harris. He lives, breathes, and sleeps numbers."

Jordan grinned. Her son might complain, but he always came through in the end.

Just like his father had always done.


	4. Bodies and Birthdays

**Chapter Four**

**Bodies and Birthdays**

Woody had always hated domestic calls – from the time he was a sheriff in Kewuanne, to the first time he was a detective with the Boston PD, to his time in San Diego, to now….domestic calls for him were the equivalent of having half his teeth pulled with no Novocain.

And normally his present rank would have opted him out from taking such a call. But flu season was beginning its cycle, and that coupled with a heavy case load for the majority of the other homicide detectives required him to pitch in and work a few "regular" cases in addition to his other responsibilities.

So it was a dead wife and the allegedly guilty husband that brought him back to working with Jordan for the first time since he had returned to Boston. She was facing the same administrative difficulties he was…an overworked staff that was off a few members due to the flu, and she was having to pick up the slack.

_She hasn't changed that much at all…at least not as far as being an ME is concerned_, Woody thought as he watched her do the autopsy on the woman that had met her death by asphyxiation. Jordan performed her duties with the same thoroughness he remembered – checking and re-checking evidence…not just giving the obvious a precursory look, but closely examining everything. The one thing missing was the tension-filled drive that used to be present during her work. She was still just as committed to finding the truth. She was still just as committed to justice.

She just wasn't as committed to driving everyone crazy to obtain it.

Woody didn't know whether to chalk that up to the new, softer side of Jordan he was now seeing or the fact that maybe she had worked at her job for so long now that she understood her driving ambition to solve her cases wasn't always a good or easy thing for the staff to endure.

_Whatever it is, it looks good on her_, he reflected as he stood behind her and continued to observe the procedure.

"You know I hate it when you do that," she finally said from behind her face shield.

"What?" Woody feigned innocence.

"Stand over my shoulder and watch me. It's like….you're breathing down my neck to get done."

"Sorry…." Woody slid around to the other side of the table and propped on a stool. "Better?"

"Much. Thanks."

"So….what do you think we have?"

"Well," Jordan said, retracting a throat tube from out of the woman, "there's fibers in her esophagus, and hemorrhaging behind the eyes…if the fibers match something the husband had access to…and you can pin it on him….he's the murderer."

Woody grunted. DNA would be useless here….the man and woman lived together…as would fingerprints. Maybe if a neighbor heard something, he could get lucky before the week was out and solve this domestic dilemma. A popping sound brought his attention back to where he was. Jordan was stretching her back.

"Age can be a bitch sometimes, can't it?' he asked with a grin.

"Speak for yourself, detective," Jordan replied sounding slightly miffed. "Standing on concrete floors all day gets to anyone's back."

"You've been on your feet all day?"

"Bug, Sydney, and Peter are out with the flu. It's me and Nigel right now, but I did coerce Garret into coming in tomorrow and helping out."

"That sounds like….fun. If fun can be had at the morgue."

"It will seem like old times, anyway."

Woody nodded, making a mental note to stop by and see Garret tomorrow. He was the one person the detective had not had contact with since returning to Boston. He watched her pull the sheet up over the dead woman and get her ready for the family to positively ID. "Are you through for the evening?" he asked.

"Pretty much…unless there's another case you're not telling me about."

"Well…it's not a case, but I was I take you to dinner?"

Jordan nearly blanched. "Umm…no….there's somewhere I have to be tonight."

Catching the look on her face, Woody's expression and tone darkened. "There's nothing anywhere that says we can't be friends, Jo. Nothing. And I don't care what the Massachusetts State Employee Handbook says. The fact that the Chief ME and the Lieutenant over the homicide department might occasionally have dinner together to discuss cases, is nothing for anyone to get hot and bothered about."

Jordan let a slow smile slide across her face. "It's not that, Woody. Honest. I just…have somewhere I have to be tonight….I made someone else a promise I'd have dinner with him tonight." She took off her face shield and snapped off her gloves, turning her back to him and tossing them into the hazmat container. "I'm sorry…maybe next time?"

He waited a beat. I bring a movie by your apartment later…we could watch it and catch up…we really haven't had much of a chance to find out what each other has done over the past fifteen years."

Absented-mindedly, Jordan headed for the door of the autopsy room. "Not tonight, Woody. After I get back from dinner with Will, I'm heading for bed. I'm bushed. And I don't live in an apartment any longer. I have a house…." Her voice trailed off as she headed for the ladies locker room to change.

Not used to being dismissed from her or other women in such an abrupt manner, for a moment Woody was at a loss to know what to do. Jordan was obviously so caught up in the thoughts of having dinner with this Will guy that she had forgotten she had left him alone in autopsy. Indeed, as Woody watch her emerge from the locker room, changed and ready to leave on her date with that man, she seemed single-minded in her objective…to get out of the morgue as soon as possible so she could be with _him_.

She hadn't told Woody much, but she had told him enough that his curiosity was aroused. He waited until she had taken the elevator to the lobby before he punched the down button for the next car.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late," Jordan apologized to Will as she slid in her seat across from him at Olive Garden.

"No problem , Mom. I got your text message about the case. How'd it go?"

"Pretty much what everyone thought. The husband did it. Now the police just have to prove it."

Will nodded and sipped his soda. "I wasn't sure what you wanted to drink…."

Jordan nodded and signaled to the waitress they were ready to order. "What do you want, son?" she asked.

"I'm not sure…"

"Get whatever you want….after all, this is your birthday gig." She grinned at Will. Tonight wasn't really his birthday. It was next weekend…but between her work schedule now and Will's soccer games and school, tonight was the only night they could come up with to celebrate his upcoming sixteenth birthday. He would have a traditional, huge, sixteenth birthday bash…complete with DJ and food….and whatever else he wanted….but tonight was their time….just Will's and hers…to celebrate.

"Okay…..I'll have the Chicken Marsalis…." Will said.

"And I'll have Fettuccini Alfredo…. With a tea," Jordan finished, closing her menu and handing it to the waitress. "And we will be ordering dessert. This guy has a birthday…"

"Aw….Mom…."

Jordan chuckled at his embarrassment. "Okay…so do you want your present now…or at your 'real' birthday party?"

"Now….what do you think?"

Smiling, Jordan handed him a card. Will ripped it open and was pleased to see money on the inside. Quickly he counted it up and his eyes got big. "Mom…that's too much."

"You only turn sixteen once. Just don't spend it all at one place. And spend it on something you really want."

Will opened his mouth to reply when a fit of coughing took over. Concerned, Jordan reached across the table to feel her son's forehead. "No fever….but how long have you had that cough?"

"It started again this afternoon."

"Did you take your meds?"

"Yeah."

Jordan frowned. "I think I need to call Dr. Reed again, Will. You've been getting sick too often it seems this year."

"Mom, I had my physical in August before we started soccer practice. I was given a clean bill of health….and you had them do blood work and made me pee in a cup….everything. They said I was fine, I just had allergies."

"Still…it would make me feel better."

Will sighed. As mothers go, he and his mom didn't have the problems a lot of his friends and their moms had. He had a good relationship with Jordan and he admired and loved her for the fine line she walked so perfectly…the line between motherhood and friendship with him.

But he also knew when to throw in the towel and admit defeat. And where his health was concerned was one of those times. He assumed that with his mom being a ME, she was just a little more paranoid than most "normal" parents were concerning his well-being. And he had learned early on this was one area in his life she allowed no give or take…it was her way or no way at all. "Um….sure, Mom. Make me an appointment with Dr. Reed. Just …could it wait until after my party next weekend?"

Jordan nodded. "Of course…as long as you don't run a high fever." She tried to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, but the truth was, she wasn't. Ever since Will had been born a few weeks premature, she had been border-line obsessive about his health.

But the sight of your infant on a respirator is not a vision easily forgotten.

So every time Will caught a cold, a sore throat…anything, her heart would nearly stop. Her fears and paranoia had gotten better as he got older, but it seemed this fall, Will had picked up every little germ-bug that came his way. After trying five different kinds of cough medicines and decongestants, Dr. Reed had sent Will to an allergy specialist for testing. The results showed that Will had mild allergies. He was now on the injections to help him handle the allergies better, but it seemed he still was getting sick far too often …far more frequently… than he ever had before.

And with Jordan being a doctor, she knew something still wasn't working quite right….there was something there she felt she couldn't put her finger on….and it worried her.

However, Will's smile brought her back to reality. "I'm fine, Mom. Really."

Tonight was not the night to obsess about this cold. Tomorrow would be soon enough. Tonight…they were celebrating sixteen years of her son's life. "I know," she said. "Just….happy birthday, son."

* * *

_So she's not in her apartment any longer…not that I expected her to be_, Woody mused as he took the elevator down after Jordan. He crossed the street at a jog and settled back at his desk. It was after five now, and the room was nearly deserted. With the exception of a few rookies who were struggling to finish today's paperwork, he was alone.

It wasn't what Jordan had told him about herself that further sparked his curiosity about her. It was what she didn't tell him – where she lived…and who was Will? Jordan had no rings on her fingers….so he was assuming she was divorced and dating someone else.

Funny…despite Jordan's fears and phobias about commitment, Woody had always thought that once she did make up her mind about a relationship, she would be committed to that person for life.

Maybe she didn't want the divorce. Maybe her husband did. Maybe her driving tenaciousness to solve cases was what drove them apart. Maybe that was the reason she was calmer, warmer….softer than he ever remembered. Maybe she was changing her behavior so that if she did re-marry, the same thing wouldn't happen again.

Woody didn't know for sure. But he wanted to find out. After booting up his computer, he deftly hacked his way into the Massachusetts Department of Motor Vehicles. There she was…1213 Ward Street….

_Ward Street? Gee, that's suburbia-city_, he thought. Somehow he had a hard time imagining Jordan in a cookie-cutter neighborhood with sidewalks and a community swimming pool. The vision of her bohemian-style apartment on Pearle Street was still fresh in his mind.

Maybe….maybe she had changed far more than he ever even imagined. Maybe her then-husband wanted to live there and she had loved him enough to acquiesce.

That was a change.

He couldn't imagine her giving up her life style – at least without a fight – for anyone.

She must have really loved her husband.

And if she loved him that much, then why….why the divorce? Maybe her husband did initiate it. A burning feeling of protectiveness and anger wreathed its way around Woody's chest. How dare someone else in Jordan's life abandon her?

Woody shook his head. He was jumping conclusions far too quickly. Garret would be back in the morgue tomorrow. And if anyone could give him the answers, it was the former chief ME.

_If I can get Garret to go out with me for a few drinks after work…I may learn what I want to find out_, Woody thought.

_But just why are you so interested….she's seeing someone else and has told you that you two can't revisit your past,_ his conscious blurted out.

_I never said I wanted to revisit my past…_ Woody argued back.

_But you…_his conscious responded.

_Can it. I just need to know…_

_Why?_

This time Woody didn't have an answer. He really wasn't sure.


	5. The Only Thing Certain in Life is Change

**Chapter Five**

**The Only Thing Certain in Life is Change**

"How are you doing?" Jordan asked Garret midway through the next day.

"Fine…fine. Most things haven't changed. And those that have are pretty easy to catch up on."

"I really appreciate you coming in like this for a few days. At least until one of the guys gets over this flu and is back full time."

Garret nodded and grinned. "Well, it _is_ nice to feel needed…and it is good to be working again."

Jordan returned his grin. "Does that mean you want your old job back?"

"Not a chance. I'm enjoying playing golf whenever I want to … sleeping in….I don't mind occasional stints here, but as far as full-time, you can have it. Retirement rocks."

Jordan chuckled and made her way down the hall to the elevators. Seely had just called her. Someone had found a body in a back alley behind a local bar and she had to take his call. "Well….just hold down the fort for a little while until I get back…and if things get too hairy for you and Nigel, give me a call."

Garret nodded and returned his attention back to the file he was reading. A pat on his back broke his concentration. "Dr. Macy…How are you?" Woody asked.

"Woody…heard you were back. Last time I saw you, you were using a cane and still limping…"

"That … that was long time ago." For Woody, it seemed like a lifetime ago sometimes. Other than the scar on his chest, his body really bore no signs that he had ever been seriously injured. And for the most part, he seldom thought about his injury, recovery, and how his pride had made him push Jordan out of his life at that point.

Other nights…especially if he had been involved with a shooting, his old nightmares would return…and in those he didn't get up off the filthy floor of that dingy apartment. Instead of Jordan telling him she loved him and needed him, she ended up crying over his body. Woody swallowed hard. Garret was the first person who had really mentioned that part of his past.

"I guess you're needing Jordan?" Garret asked, noticing the detective's face flush and the go deadly pale.

"Ummm no. Actually, I came to see you. I was wondering if you'd like to go out for drinks after work. You're the only person I haven't seen since I came back to Boston. Nigel said you had retired.."

"Retired from _here_," Garret said, indicating the morgue. "But not from working. I teach a little…consult a little…help out a little here…."

"So you're as busy as you want to be."

"Yeah." Garret grinned at the detective. "Soooo you want to go for drinks. How does O'Malley's sound?"

"Six?"

"Six is good….unless Jordan makes me work over time."

"She wouldn't do that, would she?"

"Don't bet on it. See you then." With a final handshake, Garret slipped behind the swinging doors of the autopsy room and disappeared.

Woody grimaced and looked at his watch. Four more hours until six o'clock. Maybe he'd have the answers he wanted by midnight tonight.

_But why do you want them so badly? _His conscious prompted him again.

_It's none of your concern. I just do. If it bothers you badly enough, I'll pop an extra twenty in the plate at church on Sunday and say an extra Hail Mary. Until then…shut up._

* * *

Woody was a little late getting to O'Malley's. He never thought he'd ever get lost in Boston…not as long as he had lived there before…but he did. Feverishly, he parked his car and nearly sprinted to the bar. Garret was there…on an end barstool, nursing a glass of Scotch.

"Sorry I'm late…."

"Last minute call?"

"No…got lost. And the traffic was horrible." Woody signaled to the bartender to bring him a Scotch, also.

"Okay, Woody. So what's up?' Garret said, swallowing the rest of his Scotch and getting down to business. While he had no preconceived ideas about why Woody wanted to see him, he did have a strong suspicion it involved Jordan on some level – either personal or professional.

"I just wanted to catch up with what all has happened to you since I've been gone," Woody said, avoiding Garret's eyes.

_Yeah, right,_ Garret thought. "Hm. Okay. Rene' and I didn't work things out. Neither did Lily and me. Neither did Maggie and me. So I decided to live the life of a confirmed bachelor who enjoys bourbon, cigars, and jazz….and still has a set of drum in his garage that he bangs on occasionally."

"That's it?"

"Pretty much."

"So why'd you decide to retire?"

"It was time. I had done all I could do with the office…and now it was time to do something I wanted to do. Golf. Travel. Spend some time with Abby and the grandkids. And besides, Jordan was chomping at the bit to get the job."

"Jordan? Jordan _wanted_ your job?" Woody's voice held of note of incredulousness.

"Yeah…believe it or not, our girl finally grew up and got semi-ambitious. She wanted my position and I was ready for her to have it." Garret chuckled at the memory.

Woody digested that tidbit of information. Never…ever….in a million years could he imagine Jordan wanting to be the chief ME. He assumed she had to be hog-tied and bribed to take the position. "I can't imagine…" he finally said.

Garret sighed suddenly and poured himself another finger of Scotch. He knew Woody wanted to talk about her…but there was only so much Garret could tell. The rest would have to come from Jordan – when, and most importantly, _if_ she wanted Woody to know. "Jordan's changed Woody…she had begun coming out of that imposed cycle of self-abuse before you left. She was becoming open …. Loving…not afraid of showing people her emotions." Garret shook his head as if dismissing the memory from his mind. "Then….her life changed so dramatically."

"What do you mean?" Woody asked.

"You heard she got married?"

"Yeah. A couple of months after I left."

"Well, it was actually less time than that. More like a month. She and Jason flew to Vegas to get married….they eloped."

Woody could imagine Jordan doing that…avoiding the pomp and circumstance of a wedding for something far simpler. "That sounds like something she'd do."

Garret nodded. "Then, after they got back home, Jason had to report for active duty again in Iraq."

Woody took in a sharp breath. He had met Jason before he high tailed it out to California to San Diego and Sunny D. He had assumed when he saw the young soldier back in Boston that his tour of duty was over….and that was one of the reasons why Jordan was paying attention to him…Jason would be around for a while.

_She must have loved him to marry him and let him go…to wait on him until he returned home…_Woody thought. "So what happened?" he asked Garret, almost unthinkingly and only half-listening. He assumed he was going to get a divorce play-by-play.

"In less than year, she was a widow. Jason was killed in the line of duty."

* * *

Woody made his way back to his car, his head still reeling with the information that Garret had just passed on to him. _So she's not divorced…she's a widow…a widow for Christ's sake. And I was accusing her of being cold…Damn…how much more stupid could I get?_

_Do you really want an answer to that?_ His conscious asked.

He ran a hand down his tired face. She was a widow…Jordan was a widow…somehow he couldn't get that out of his mind. Widows are supposed to be little, old ladies with blue or purple hair…not attractive forty-something women.

But she was.

And she had never told him. He had always assumed she was divorced.

Assuming had never gotten him very far in life. He sat there in his car staring unseeingly out the window, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, still processing what this meant.

Grief. Grief does strange things to people. He knew that first hand. It causes the young to mature far more quickly than they should. Grief…with its tsunami like force … makes changes in your life that you have to learn to cope with. And many times that means changing yourself.

So probably…Jordan had grieved her husband…and that grief had brought about the changes Woody saw in her. The new softness….the extra compassion….the warmth. He knew how losing a parent could change you … but that is the course of life. Children know at a certain point in time, they will have to bury their parents.

But losing a spouse? Woody could only imagine the layers of grief and loss Jordan had to go through. Sighing he pulled out of his parking spot when the sharp ringing of his cell phone brought him out of his reverie. He did remember he was on call. "Hoyt," he barked into the receiver.

"Sorry to bother you LT, but there's been a victim found down near the Center Mall and you're up." Framus's voice came across the line loud and clear.

"I'm there," he growled into the receiver as he shoved the gear shift into drive, his thoughts still on her. What a night….what a revelation…Jordan…poor Jordan…lost her husband in the cruelest of ways…Woody wondered just how okay she was really doing. He wasn't sure.

But he'd find out.

* * *

He recognized her in the glow of the headlights from the multitude of police vehicles at the scene. Jordan was bent over the victim, taking the liver temperature.

"Hey," he said softly. "What do we have?"

He guessed his changed attitude caught her off guard. The last time he had seen her was when she had turned down his dinner invitation. And he wasn't the most polite person to her then. She looked at him with a startled expression. "He's been dead about four hours, the best I can estimate right now. I'll know more tomorrow."

"Cause of death?" he asked, squatting down beside her and the body and gently putting his hand on hr back. He felt her muscles jump in surprise.

"Blow to the head…blunt force trauma." She turned the man's head over for Woody to look at.

"Ouch. Whatever it was, it hit him hard."

Jordan nodded. "I'll get Nigel on trace with him right away. Your guys couldn't find a wallet or any identification, so someone will need to check him against missing persons – probably in the morning."

Woody nodded. "Are you taking him back to the morgue now?"

"Yeah. I'll do the autopsy first thing in the morning."

Before Woody could reply, Jordan's cell phone rang. Woody noticed her check the caller ID and then stand and step away from him. He continued to pretend to make notes…and continued to pretend not to over hear her conversation.

"Hi," Jordan said. Then. "No… I won't be here much longer, I promise. No. I'm not doing the autopsy tonight. I'll do it tomorrow. So…I'll be home within the hour. You need help with what? Okay…I think I can do that. Yeah. I love you, too." She flipped her phone shut and walked back over the morgue van driver, making sure he could handle the body from there.

"I've got to go, Woody," she said, finally turning back to the detective. "Nigel's set to do trace…and if you need me on this one tonight, give me a call on my cell."

Feigning ignorance, Woody asked, "You have to go answer another field call?"

"No…I just need to get home." And with that, she climbed in her SUV and backed out of the crime scene, her tail lights beaming at him in the cold Boston night.

_She's evidently not the grieving widow any longer, _Woody thought.

_Well, doofus, it's been at least fourteen years since her husband died. What's she supposed to do? Grieve the rest of her life and not move on?_ His conscious prompted.

_But still…_he thought, _it just doesn't seem….right._

_Right for Jason, or right for you – that she has someone she loves that she wants to get home to….and all you have to look forward to at the end of this evening is the left over pizza in the refrigerator and twenty minutes of Jay Leno?_

Sometimes Woody thought his conscious was way too verbal for its own good.

* * *

Jordan pulled into her driveway with a sigh of relief. She knew that working nights, rotation, and double shifts would always be a part of her job description.

That didn't mean she liked them.

They used to not bother her so much….until she had Will. And the night hours worried Will. Not because he minded staying home by himself, it was that he worried about his mother. Despite the fact she worked with troops of Boston's finest, Will still worried. Jordan pulled her weary body out of the truck and let herself in the house. "Will…I'm home…"

"Hey, Mom," Will emerged from the kitchen and hugged his mother. "Long day?"

"Sort of. Garret coming in was a godsend. And Peter called and said he believed he would feel like coming back tomorrow."

"That's good. Just don't catch the darn flu yourself. I've heard it's bad this year."

Jordan nodded and mussed her son's hair with her fingers. "How's your cough?'

"Hey…don't do that," Will protested, pulling away and running his fingers through his hair to straighten it. "It's better."

"Still seeing Dr. Reed next week, right?'

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I promised."

"And you always keep your promises…" Jordan smiled at him. Sometime he was so much like his father it was scary. "So…what do you want for dinner?"

"Can we order Chinese? We haven't had it in forever."

"Sure. Homework done?"

Will nodded and headed back to the kitchen.

"Even Algebra II?" Jordan called out from behind him.

Will turned and grinned. "Yeah, Mom…even Algebra II."


	6. Nice Meeting You

**Chapter Six**

**Nice to Meet You**

Jordan got Woody the autopsy reports the next morning as she promised. And other than a brief meeting in her office to go over the results, Woody didn't see her again for a couple of weeks.

Jordan nearly sighed with relief. If anything, seeing Woody again had brought back the emotional roller coaster ride she thought she was long over. Instead, his cold attitude towards her one day and then his warmth and compassion the next was constantly throwing her emotionally off kilter. She began to play one of the chief ME perks she so seldom used: the "I'm-too-busy-this-is-your-call-don't-give-me-that-look-just-do-what-I said" card.

In other words, she'd answer any other detective's call except Woody's. When he called in, the first face she caught sight of got the assignment. And she planned to keep it this way until she could regain the emotional ground she quickly felt eroding under her feet.

She kept telling herself that fifteen years was a long time. She was over him. He was over her. But one look back into those blue-eyes and suddenly she felt like that 32 year-old woman who had been completely rejected by the one man she had really loved her whole life.

And she didn't like the feeling. It still stung.

Oh, hell. It hurt. Especially when everyday she faced the fact that things could have worked out so differently for her…

Then she would think about Will….and it all would come back into focus and perspective. Will…the only man she needed in her life for the next…well, three years, anyway.

Jordan doggedly kept that in mind…and it came in handy a couple of weeks later after one of Will's soccer games. In some sense, Will was everyone's kid. Will was just a few months old when Jason had died. But Jordan never had to worry about a lack of male role models…Peter, Sydney, Seely, Winslow, Nigel…even Bug would step up to the plate when Will needed a man's influence. But by far the two men that had the biggest impact on the young boy's life was Max…and Garret.

However, when a soccer game involved Will, everyone that could, would show up to support him. So that Saturday after the game…one when most of the morgue was present to see Will score three goals…there was nothing unusual about everyone going out to eat afterwards. Jordan, along with Garret, Nigel, Bug, and Peter had went ahead of Will to Brown and Company…a popular hang-out for teens…and were waiting on Will and his best friend Matt to join them.

"Will is joining us, right love?" Nigel asked after ordering a beer.

"He should be right on…after he and Matt get cleaned up and changed."

"Three goals, Jordan. He scored three goals today…" Nigel said excitedly. In a way he felt responsible for Will's soccer success. He had been the one to turn the boy onto the game when Will was just out of diapers. Much to Jordan's then chagrin, Will had taken to it like a duckling does to water….kicking his play ball all over the house, destroying innumerable lamps, knickknacks, vases…..nearly anything breakable. Nigel finally had to string a net between the two trees in the back yard as a makeshift goal in order to restore peace.

Garret nodded. "All that time he spends at soccer practice and you spend patching him up just may pay off, Jor. He's scholarship material."

Jordan was just about to reply when she noticed Garret's face blanch. "What is it?" she asked him, touching Garret's hand to get his attention.

"It's Woody…"

"Here?"

Garret nodded. "And here he comes."

"Hi guys…nice to see everyone. You folks taking a break from the morgue to get some lunch?" Woody asked, coming up to the table where they were sitting.

"Uh…not exactly," Peter said, keeping his eyes on the menu. "Well…the lunch thing yeah. It is lunch time."

Woody's brow wrinkled. He knew the morgue workers were a closely knit group. And it was hard being allowed in their "inner circle" of friendship. But this was just plain weird. They weren't working…so why lunch together? Despite their closeness, it was rare they saw each other outside of any function that wasn't work related.

"How are you settling back into Boston?" Bug asked innocently, hoping he could avert Woody's attention away from Jordan.

"Good…but some things have really changed," Woody began, taking Bug's open-ended question as an excuse to join the group. He dropped down into a chair beside Bug without an invitation, seeming bent on talking about everything that had altered since he had been in Boston. He was right in the middle of an animated discussion when one phrase stopped his whole world.

"Hi Mom."

Woody looked up, startled at the statement. And he had no doubt who it was addressed to…Jordan was the only woman present.

"Hi sweetheart," she said back, standing to give the tall, young man a hug. "Good job…I am so proud."

"Yeah…you did your Uncle Nigel proud, too…" Nige agreed, letting Will hug him.

"I know you're starving…but where's Matt?" Jordan asked, deliberately not looking over towards where Woody was sitting.

"Matt went home to finish the yard work. We have a double date tonight, and his dad won't let him go if the yard's not mowed and trimmed," Will said with a grin.

"And who's the lucky lady tonight?" Garret asked.

"Amy. Amy Bender."

Jordan thought for a minute. "I don't remember her."

"I've never been out with her before," Will replied. "This is the first time. But you're right, I'm starved."

"Will…this is a third new girl this month," Jordan said, a note of reproach in her voice.

"Options, Mom. It's all about options…and right now I'll opt for a large Italian sub, no onions, a large Coke, and cheese fries," he told the waitress, skillfully changing the subject, although good-natured banter about Will's love life continued for a few moments until a clearing of the throat brought Woody to Will's attention.

"I'm sorry," Will said to Woody, extending his hand. "I don't think I know you?"

"Then let me introduce you," said Jordan, trying to regain some control of the situation. "Will, this is Detective Woody Hoyt. He's the lieutenant over the homicide department. Woody, this is William Maxwell Turner – Will for short – my son."

Woody found his hand caught in a firm handshake and taken with the face of this young man. Jordan's hair…and her and Jason's eyes. Jason had blue eyes and Jordan those beautiful honey-colored ones. The fact that the boy had hazel eyes didn't surprise the detective.

The teen's maturity did.

"Detective Hoyt…I don't think I've heard my mother mention you before…are you new here in Boston?" Will asked.

"Sort of….it's more like a return appearance. I worked as a detective in Boston a little over sixteen yeas ago. I left here to work with Sunny D in San Diego, but now I'm back home."

"So you're from Boston?"

"Not originally. Kewuanne, Wisconsin."

"Wisconsin. What made you decide to ever come to Boston?"

Jordan grimaced. She had asked herself that question more times than she cared to count.

"Bigger city…more opportunities…running away from a bad relationship…" Woody replied with a wink.

"Oh…did you work with my mom before when you lived in Boston?"

Jordan wondered if she could possible crawl under the table and no one notice. This was one of the reasons she had tried to keep Will and Woody apart for as along as possible.

Woody grinned, noting Jordan's obvious discomfort. He subtly raised one eyebrow at her. She returned his gesture with a challenging look.

"Yeah. As a matter of fact, she answered my first call as a homicide detective here in Boston. Bank robbery. You know what I remember most about that, Will?"

Jordan glowered at Woody.

"She hated my ties," Woody finished.

"Ah," Will responded, noting the tension between this new detective and his mother. He picked up their signals. If he had any money to bet, he'd say that his mom and this semi-new guy had more than just a working relationship all those years ago. _This could be fun_, Will thought, _and this could be just what my mother needs. I haven't seen her this flustered since I asked her where babies came from._ He began to pose another question when the waitress appeared with his food.

Jordan sent up a prayer of thanksgiving and made a mental note to tip the waitress some extra cash. This bought her time to steer the subject of conversation to a safer ground. So she discussed the case at Center Mall for the rest of the time, still noting the furtive looks that Will and Woody were giving each other.

She had to keep these two apart. Woody knew too much about her past….and some of her past Will did not need to know. Ever. When Will got up to leave, she nearly melted with relief and gave him more spending money than he asked for to get him out of the restaurant without a fuss.

"I gotta run, too," said Garret. "Look at the time…and I have yard work this afternoon, too." He glanced at Jordan. "If you need me….call me, Jor." He finished with a pointed look at her pale face.

"I will."

"You, too, young man," Garret said, shaking hands with Will.

"Will do, Uncle Garret. I'll walk with you out to your car."

Everyone was filtering out of the restaurant. Jordan sighed with relief and turned around, only to come face to face with Woody.

"You never told me you had a son," he said, his tone nearly taking on an accusing note.

"You never asked."

"Well, it seemed like you would have volunteered that information at some point…or that someone would have."

"I'm pretty protective over Will. Everyone knows that. That's why you weren't told."

"So you don't feel you don't feel you can trust me with your son?"

"It's not that…I just wanted you to be comfortable working with me again before you found out."

"And avoiding taking my field calls is one way to do that?"

"Look, Woody," Jordan finally snapped. "It's been a long time since you've been back in Boston. My life did not stop the day you kicked me out of your hospital room and told me to 'Get out…now'. I did what you said. I got out. But after a while, I also got on with my life.

"I married Jason…which you obviously already know. And I'm a widow. I'm sure you know that, too. My son….Will…is the only thing I have left in my life that keeps me going. So yeah, I am protective about who I tell about my kid. Especially in my line of work. He's all I have left. And if you think that just because we knew each other before…and had….whatever it is we had…that you _deserve_ to know about him because of that….you're dead wrong, detective."

They stood there eye-to-eye and toe-to-toe for a few minutes, staring each other down…_just like old times_, thought Woody. But he had to admit Jordan was right. She was under no obligation to introduce him to her son. Will was hers. And she was obviously a good mother. "You're right, Jo. I'm sorry."

Jordan gave him a disbelieving look.

"I mean it…you're right. You had no obligation to tell me anything about your life. I forfeited that privilege years ago with you. But I will tell you this … he's one hell of a good kid…and you've done one hell of a good job with him."

* * *

Sometimes things in the present, reflected and refracted on the shards of the past, bring what could have been clearly into focus.

Woody thought about that as he lay in bed later the same night, thinking about seeing Jordan again and meeting Will. Will was a remarkable young man by all appearances. From what he could gather from Bug and Peter, Will was an honor student, favoring his mother's pet subject, science. He had played soccer for as long as he had been walking. He wanted to go to UMass and major in marine biology or pre-med.

And he was the apple of Jordan's eye. Her sun rose and set in Will, as far as she was concerned. He could understand her protectiveness of her child, but surely Jordan knew him well enough to know that he would never do anything to jeopardize Will's safety and well-being.

But like she said, sixteen or so years is a long time…for all she knew, Woody could have changed.

Only he hadn't. Not that much.

And given the attraction…the still unresolved-sexual-tension that would always rise between them like the early morning mist…Woody couldn't help but wonder what could have happened if he would have stayed in Boston, swallowed his damn stubborn male pride, and asked her to forgive him?

What would she have done if he told her the reason he couldn't maintain a steady relationship with another woman in San Diego was because none of them were _her_ or even remotely like her?

Would they have a family now? Be together?

Looking at Will this afternoon made Woody keenly aware of two things. First, Jason Turner had been a lucky man, even if was only for a short while. Jordan and Will. What else could a man ask for?

The second thing that was brought sharply in to focus was just exactly what he had left behind in Boston when he fled for San Diego…and what that had cost him….His pride had cost him the warmth and companionship of a wonderful woman.

And from what he could gather, the chances of getting her back now were slim to none.


	7. Skeletons and Phone Calls

**Chapter Seven**

**Skeletons and Phone Calls**

Jordan looked at the piece of paper in her hand for a long time. Will had turned sixteen two weeks ago. His party had been "a blast" by his standards, so she guessed she hadn't done so badly putting the thing together. She smiled at the memory. Thirty of his closest friends at the downtown depot she had rented. A DJ, music, dancing until midnight. And food. Sometimes she would swear that teenagers were nothing but human food vacuums.

Sixteen. Her baby was sixteen. It didn't seem possible. It seemed like he should still be six – Legos, cartoons, the latest Disney movie, and staying up a half hour beyond his bedtime should still be his primary concerns.

Not soccer games, girls, college, and cars like it is now.

He was growing up. Far too quickly for Jordan's liking. Woody's stinging accusation about not trusting him with her son still rang in her mind. She pushed back her desk chair and propped her feet on her desk, still staring at the paper. Woody was right more levels than he knew.

She didn't trust just anyone with Will. Ever since he was born, it had been just him and her more times than she wanted to remember. After Jason had been shipped back to Iraq, Jordan had never felt more alone in her life, despite the fact that she was surrounded by a loving circle of friends at the morgue. When she began to show…her body ripen with pregnancy, everyone became so supportive….but she felt so lonely…she missed having someone there to share the pregnancy with. She felt, perhaps erroneously, that for the first time in her life, she was really all on her own.

Jordan had thrown up a flare to Max…to see if her father would reconcile with her and come home to help her with the baby at least for a little while. Reluctantly, her father had returned home to check on her and the Will, but was hesitant to commit to staying.

Will's premature birth put an end to his hesitancy. He was only a few weeks premature, but seeing the baby in neo-natal intensive care had shaken all of them up. Mainly Jordan, who perhaps for the first time really realized how fleeting life could be.

As well as how unconditionally she loved her son and just how fiercely over protective she could be of another human being. She never though she could ever have that emotion over another person. Funny how holding a helpless infant in your arms changes that. Especially one that had so many wires and tubes attached to him.

So no, she didn't trust just anyone with Will. She had reason. If anything happened to him, she wasn't sure she could make it through the next breath, much less the next day. The center of her life would be gone…and she would be on her own again. Alone.

Which brought her back to this piece of paper….Will's birth certificate. He was sixteen. In a few months, he would be eligible to try to get his driver's license. He would need this piece of paper she had gone to her safety deposit bank to retrieve. Will had asked her to go ahead and get it so it would be one less thing to worry about. Jordan sighed, folded the piece of paper and put it back in the envelope.

"What do you have there?" asked Garret, propping himself on her door.

"Will's birth certificate….he needs it to get his license."

Garret grunted. "That's a few months away, isn't it?"

Jordan nodded. "Yeah."

"Are you okay with it?"

"Oh Garret, I don't know…I don't know if I can handle it when it happens."

Garret walked over to her desk and gently took her hand. "You'll do fine, Jor. Just fine. Will will be okay…Trust me. He's a good, solid, young man and he loves you."

"I know…" she began, but ringing of her cell phone interrupted the conversation. "Turner," she said into the mouthpiece. "What?" Her face went completely white and her grip on Garret's hand tightened and her face went completely white. "When? Where?" I'm there. Yes…by all means go ahead…you have my permission to do anything you need."

"Jordan?" Garret asked, the question in his eyes.

"It's…..it's Will," she replied, the shakiness in her voice transferring over to her body. She blindly searched for her pocketbook and her coat.

"Whoa….slow down," Garret said, taking the keys from her hand. Whatever had happened, she was in no state to drive. "I'll take you wherever you need to go. Now what happened?"

"Will…" her lips were having a hard time forming the words…"Will collapsed during PE class at school. He is unconscious….and on his way to Boston General."

* * *

The morning passed in a blur…tubes, blood pressure checks, x-rays, scans….finally an MRI was ordered. Jordan and Garret sat with Will as he floundered in and out of consciousness….talking with him and answering a myriad of questions that the young man had. When the nurses came to get Will to take him down for the MRI, Jordan started to follow the gurney down the hall when a hand on her arm stopped her.

"Dr. Turner?" a tall, silver-haired man asked.

Jordan nodded. "Yes.."

"I'm Dr, Sullivan, Will's attending physician. I need to ask you some questions about Will's medical history. Has this ever happened before?"

"No…never…"

"Hmm….has Will ever complained about pains in his chest?"

"No…"

"And he plays sports?"

"Soccer."

"Has he ever been overly winded after a game…had a hard time catching his breath for a longer than normal time interval?"

Again, Jordan shook her head. "No…his medical history has been pretty normal…except he was premature…" then she remembered…"and he seems to have stayed sick this fall and winter. I can't keep him well. He's picked up every bug and germ he's come across. Dr. Reed sent him to an allergy specialist and he does have a mild case of those and is on the desensitization injections."

Dr. Sullivan shook his head. "No…that's not it. I know you're thinking asthma. This isn't asthma. Does your family have an history of heart disease?"

Jordan could feel her reality slipping away…Garret put his arm around her to steady her. "No…none," she choked out.

"Then what about Will's father? What about his family?"

The question was asked innocently enough, but Jordan felt her past crashing in on her as her present turmoil forced a skeleton to the surface she thought she had kept hidden so well it would never come out of the closet. "I don't know…." She answered faintly. "His father hasn't been in the picture for a long time."

"Can you find out? It's important that we get as thorough a medical background as we can."

Jordan nodded. "Yeah. Let me make a few phone calls." Dr, Sullivan nodded and walked down the hall towards the MRI lab. Turning to Garret, she asked, "What do I do?"

"You make the phone call, Jordan."


	8. Why Didn't You Tell Me?

**Chapter Eight**

_I've got to make the call…_ that thought kept ringing through Jordan's head as she searched for her cell phone in her purse with trembling hands. Once retrieved, she punched in the number, but paused before she hit send. _This phone call is going to change three lives forever…._she thought, although the deeds that had begun the change had occurred over sixteen years ago…

It had rained so hard that day. That was the first thing Jordan could remember about the night Will was conceived. There were flash flood warnings up and as her luck ran, she had to work a double shift at the morgue. Bone-tired, cold, and more than ready to go home, Jordan had gotten into her old El Camino and headed to her Pearle Street apartment. The primary things that had been on her mind were a hot bubble bath and a cold beer. Seeing him again had never entered her mental picture.

However, someone somewhere that dealt with the office of fate had other ideas. Her El Camino knocked off on her half way back to her apartment. Cursing her bad run of luck, the rain, and the fact she had not renewed her auto club membership, she had gotten out of the vehicle and raised the hood…to see if she could get some idea what was going wrong before she called a tow truck for the car and Nigel for herself.

He had been heading to his apartment about the same time…and recognized her car. Ever the boy scout… ever the hero, he had gotten out of his car…and had the sense to bring an umbrella. He had taken one look at her soaked and shivering body and ordered her into his vehicle.

And despite the fact that their relationship was just as chilly as her body was at the moment, she didn't argue. She got in his car and blasted the heat. A few minutes later, he had returned. "I think it's the alternator. With a car that old, I can't be sure. I've called a tow truck and they'll be here to take to the shop in a minute. Meanwhile, I'm taking you back to my place…it's closer. We'll get you a hot shower and some dry clothes. Then I'll take you home."

She couldn't even manage to thank him because her teeth were chattering too hard. A half an hour later found her warmer from the shower and wrapped in his bathrobe, sitting at his bar, both of them casually eating left over Chinese food, trying to act like it was an everyday occurrence that she sat half naked in his kitchen.

And to be honest, she wasn't sure what to make of his actions then … not when filtering them through the fact they had barely spoken since he kicked her out of his hospital room and broke her heart nearly a year before. She knew he was seeing someone else. She had seen the woman hanging around the precinct. And she had just begun to see Jason. Feeling awkward and emotionally shaky, she had finally gotten up from the barstool. "If you have a spare pair of sweat pants and an old t-shirt you can let me borrow to wear home, I'll call a taxi and get out of your hair."

"You don't have to call a taxi, Jordan. I'll take you…and sure, I know I have something you can wear home in place of that bathrobe." He had already put her wet things in a plastic grocery bag for her to carry back with her. He had gone into the bedroom and she followed him…to get the dry things and get changed.

Then the heavens opened again and this time, the thunder boomed, startling both of them…mainly Jordan. She hated storms. In fact, her fear of them was common knowledge at the morgue and the precinct. Instinctively, she had moved towards him when the lightening flashed and the thunder resounded.

Just as instinctively, his arms had gone around her.

And suddenly they were in the place and position that both of them had wanted to be for years….in each other's arms…with no interruptions…totally alone…in the dark. Jordan knew he realized it the same time she did. Self-consciously she had tried to pull away, only to feel one arm tighten around her waist, and the other hand tilt her head up to meet his lips.

From that point on instincts…need….passion….drove the moment. He felt her response to his kiss and quickly made her lips and tongue his…deftly keeping her attention there while the hand around her waist untied the bathrobe and his hands slipped inside. He had whispered her name against her lips.

She heard the note of desire and for once in her life, let caution fly to the wind. She wanted him. She had wanted him for over a year and had grieved the loss of him in her life. Even if they were never together again, for this one time, this one night, he was hers.

And she was his… "Yes," she had whispered back, the same note of desire lacing her voice.

There had been awkward fumbling at first, as they sought to discover just how best their bodies fit together…how to please each other the best. But both of them quickly learned…and when he had finally taken her to the edge and back again, she had snuggled up against him and slept until the next morning – when he had reached for her again.

It was somewhere in that early morning desire that she had softly whispered, "I love you…" and felt him grow still. Abruptly, he had sat up, leaving her feeling cold and alone. "I think I need to get you back to your apartment," he said quietly.

Those were the last words he had spoke to her until he pulled up to her apartment building. Raking his fingers through his hair, he finally said: "Last night …. This morning….was a mistake, Jordan. We both…lost our heads and our cool….I mean, given our past…and the circumstances yesterday….it could have happened to anyone." He paused for a moment, before looking her directly in the eyes. "But it doesn't change my feelings towards you. I don't want to try to have a relationship of any sort with you other than professional. After last night, maybe both of our curiosity has been satisfied…but that's it.

"The fact of the matter is, I'm leaving Boston. I'm moving to San Diego…I've gotten a job with Sunny D. I leave next week."

She bit her lip hard to stop it from quivering. "Congratulations ... " she managed to stammer as she reached for the door handle. His hand on her thigh stopped her.

"Yesterday was my last day at the precinct. You won't be seeing me again…and I don't think we should have any contact, either. It would just be too hard….too awkward….."

"Too painful," she choked out.

"Yeah. So, I guess this is good-bye, Jordan."

She nodded. "Good bye," she whispered back and quickly got out of the car before she dissolved in tears. She had paused in the lobby of her apartment building to watch him drive away. That had been the last time she had talked to Woody until he had returned to Boston a few weeks ago.

Knowing this was going to be the hardest thing she had ever done, she hit the send button and held her breath.

* * *

"I came as soon as I got your message, Jordan," Woody said breathlessly, as he half-ran down the hall to herabout a half an hour later. "What's the matter with Will? Do you know yet?"

"No…we're still waiting on the results of all the tests."

"Oh…how's he doing?" Woody asked. He really wasn't sure why Jordan called him about Will, other than the fact that in the past, anytime she had faced a crisis, she had automatically called him. He thought that perhaps since he was back in town, she was reverting to her old behaviors. But he had seen Garret in the hallway…she had someone with her. So he was still puzzled over the fact that he was summoned to the hospital.

"As well as can be expected. Woody…I need to talk to you. It's important and I don't know how to begin other than just to say it….I know you're going to be angry with me…far more upset than you've ever been…but you have to understand…" she started, but was quickly interrupted.

"Dr. Turner?" Dr. Sullivan said from the doorway of the waiting room.

Jordan's and Woody's heads both snapped to attention. "Yes?"

"I think we've discovered what Will has. We'll need to run a few more tests to confirm it, but it is treatable and shouldn't interfere with his lifestyle too much…"

"What is it?" Woody and Jordan both asked at the same time.

"Bullis Disease. It's a condition often found in premature babies that can reoccur in adolescence. A lung will collapse for no apparent reason…"

"Cal has that," Woody blurted out suddenly.

Dr. Sullivan nodded. "It often runs in families. It's hereditary. I'll finish running the tests and be back with you two soon."

It took a moment for Dr. Sullivan's comment and Jordan's phone call to sink in for Woody….then his eyes widened in realization of the reason he had been called to the hospital...then narrowed and he turned to her, anger gleaming in his face. "Why the hell didn't you tell me before now? Why the hell didn't you tell me Will was my son?"

"It's complicated, Woody…You're the one that said you wanted no contact with me when you left for San Diego…."

"But you should have known I would have wanted to know about his….about Will."

"How was I supposed to be sure about that? You were pretty cold about leaving after making love to me most of the night our child was conceived."

Woody paced for a moment, the edge of his anger not abated in the least. "Does Will know?"

"No…he thinks that Jason is…"

"He thinks Jason Turner is his father?"

Jordan nodded. "We decided early on to let Will take Jason's last name."

"And just how long were you going to let Will believe this? How long were you going to wait until you told him and me the truth?"

"It was going to happen soon. Will gets his drivers license in a few months. He'll need his birth certificate to verify his date of birth. It has Jason listed as my husband, but you listed as his father…here….look." She pulled the piece of paper out of her pocketbook she had been pondering earlier in the day. Woody gave it a cursory look and handed it back.

"Dr. Turner?" a nurse called from the door. "Will is back in his room and is asking for you…"

Jordan turned to go, but Woody stopped her. "We're both going back there. It's my right and I have a hell of a lot of time to make up for. We need to talk…and I want Will to know that he's my son… but not right now…he needs to get better first."

Jordan nodded, pushing the doors to the cardio-unit open. If she didn't get somewhere she could sit down soon, she would swear she was going to faint. Her world had just been ripped out from under her…but it was her own doing. If she would have just been honest earlier. Now she might lose two men in her life…

Things couldn't get much worse.


	9. Call Me Woody

**Chapter Nine**

**Call Me Woody**

"Hi, Mom," Will said from the hospital bed. To Jordan, he looked as small now as he did when he was a small boy curled up in her bed after he had a nightmare.

"Hey, sweetheart," she replied going up to the bed and kissing him on the forehead, then gently mussing his hair with her fingers.

"Hey, stop that…it'll be going in a million different directions…and there are nurses here I'd seriously like to impress…"

"Seriously?" Jordan teased.

"Seriously," Will replied, running his fingers through his hair, unsuccessfully trying to get it to lie back down.

Woody, who had quietly come into the room behind Jordan, watched the interchange between the two with a lump in his throat. He didn't know why he hadn't seen the similarities between himself and Will sooner. The hair. The shape of the eyes. And the fact he could hear himself having nearly the same interchange with his father years before. Woody wondered for just a second how many other people may have noticed that Will favored him.

He wondered just who else may know that William was his son.

"Will, do you remember Detective Hoyt?" Jordan asked, looking at Woody, a warning flashing in her eyes.

"Sure….how are you, Detective Hoyt?" Will asked and extended his hand. Woody had to give Jordan credit. The boy remembered his manners even when he wasn't feeling well.

"I'm doing better than you are right now, I bet," Woody joked, shaking Will's hand and fighting the urge to hug him.

"I'm better…the doc said I had a collapsed lung."

"What happened?" Woody asked.

"I was running laps in PE and boom…I couldn't breathe…next thing I knew, I was in an ambulance…"

"Scary, huh?"

"All I could think of was that Mom is going to freak out," Will replied to Woody, casting a fast glance at Jordan.

"I'm okay," Jordan told him. "I just want you better. Soon."

"Why did this happen?" Will asked, furrowing his brow in concern. "I mean…I'm healthy…I'm not a couch potato…"

"It's because you have an illness called Bullis Disease," Dr. Sullivan said from the doorway. "It happens under a couple of conditions. Premature babies tend to have it after they're born, and sometimes it can come back. And it can be hereditary. Runs in families. Your lung will just sort of deflate like a balloon. But there's medicine to control it and we're going to get you fixed right up – good as new."

"Well, I was definitely a premie," Will said. "Mom will never let me forget it. Every time I want to do something that might remotely land me in the emergency room, she rolls out the stories about how tough it is to watch your kid in ICU…and how she's already spent enough time there with me…" Will rolled his eyes as Jordan smirked at him.

Dr. Sullivan grinned. "Well…that's probably part of it then." Giving Jordan a quick look, the doctor asked if he could speak to her alone in the hall. Jordan gave Will's hand a gentle squeeze and slipped to the door, looking back over her shoulder and giving Woody one more warning glance.

Woody nodded back, barely perceptible to anyone else in the room….except Will.

"So….what's the story, Detective?" Will asked, looking Woody in the eyes.

"Story?'

"You know…now I get to ask the stuff like, 'What are you doing sitting with my mother at the hospital'? questions. Uncle Garret usually does that soft of thing…sits with Mom at games and stuff. And I know he was here earlier with her and once you showed up, he left… So….being the good son that I am and all….what's the story with you and my mom? You said you two used to work together when you were in Boston before."

Woody struggled to hide a grin. If the look in Will's eyes hadn't been so serious, he would have chuckled at the boy's possessiveness. Instead Woody had a feeling he was in the presence of a very protective son who was more concerned about his mother than his own health at the moment.

"Your mom called me and asked me to come," Woody hedged, knowing better than to tell Will the truth before Jordan and he got to talk about it.

"Oh.. Mom called _you_. Well. That's different. Usually when I'm in trouble, she calls Uncle Garret and he comes."

"Uncle Garret?"

"Dr. Macy….he's my godfather….he sort of does the dad-thing now that Grandpa Max passed away…"

"Oh…"

"So…..when you were in Boston before….did you date Mom before she met dad?"

Woody's brain went into over drive…trying to determine just how to tell the boy the truth without telling the whole truth. "Uh. No. Not really." Woody raked his fingers through his hair. He had to at least be partially honest….the truth of Will's parentage was going to come up. The fact that he had been conceived while Jordan was just beginning to see Jason was not going to look good on Woody or her. And in the short while he had observed Jordan and Will together, he wanted to do absolutely nothing to damage the obviously close bond she had with her son. Gingerly he told the version of the truth that most people knew about their relationship. "It's sort of like this, Will. We went out a few times, but we just decided that we were better friends than anything else. So …when we did see each other outside of work, I really wouldn't call it _dating_." _And that's the truth,_ Woody thought.

"It was hanging out, not hooking up?'

Woody swallowed hard and nodded. "Yeah. Something like that." But Will's next question threw him for a loop.

"Did you know my dad?"

_Oh God…what am I supposed to say?_ "Jason Turner? I had met him, Will. Jordan introduced us." Woody's mind flew back to the day he had run into Jordan and Jason at a coffee shop down the street from the morgue. Jason, still in uniform, had his arm around Jordan's waist. He was a tall man, with brown hair and blue eyes…and Woody had been sure that the captain's uniform he wore made him look even taller and more broad-shouldered in a woman's eyes…especially Jordan's. Woody had worked hard to fight back a fit of jealousy and remained civil.

"So you didn't know him well?"

"No…I'm sorry."

"That's okay. I'm just trying to figure things out…Dr. Sullivan said that this Bullis Disease runs in families. If Mom or Grandpa would have had it, I would have known about it….I'm just trying to figure out if this is all because I was born a little early or maybe if Dad or someone in his family had it, too. I thought maybe if you knew Dad, you could tell me."

"Sorry…I really don't know much about Jason."

Will sighed and settled back on his pillows. "That's okay. Not many people here do. I think most people were just surprised when he and Mom got married so quickly."

Thinking fast on his feet, Woody changed the subject. "So when are they going to let you out of here?"

"Tomorrow. Maybe. I wish it was tonight."

"Yeah, hospitals aren't the easiest place in the world to get some rest," Woody said, remembering his long stay.

"Well…it's not just that. Mom is going to want to stay up here all night as long as I'm here. She won't get any rest. And she won't leave to eat."

Woody hesitated for a moment. While he was still cautious around Jordan, the concern his son had for his mother touched Woody. "Would you like for me to at least take her somewhere and make sure she gets something to eat, Will?"

"That would be great. I really try to take care of her, you know? We have each other now, and that's about it. I worry about her. I mean, Uncle Garret is great….he helps, but since he's retired, he travels a lot. Mom has always taken care of me…and worries about me waaayyyy too much. I knew she'd freak out when the hospital called her about this….but she doesn't realize that sometimes she needs someone to take care of her, you know?"

Woody nodded. Obviously that much of Jordan hadn't changed. "Moms can be kind of like that. My mom was the same way…but if it will make you feel better, I'll take her out to dinner and then make sure the nurses at least have an easy chair or cot in here for her to sleep on."

Will grinned. "Thanks, Detective Hoyt."

"Please…call me Woody."


	10. Sorting it Out

**Chapter Ten**

**Sorting It Out**

Thirty minutes later, and after much persuasion from Will, Jordan found herself sitting across from Woody at an Italian restaurant down the street. After she had returned to the room from a brief conference with Dr. Sullivan concerning Will's tests, both of the men in the hospital room had told her in no uncertain terms she was going out to dinner before she bunked down in Will's hospital room for the night.

And protesting did her no good. Woody had firmly taken her by the arm and led her out the door, muttering under his breath as they walked down the hall, "I promised _our_ son I'd take his mother out for decent meal so he wouldn't worry. So … for your son's sake…just _eat_."

Jordan had pressed her lips together firmly, promising herself that she wouldn't say a word right now that Will could possibly over hear. But…when they were out of sight, Woody was going to get an earful. She turned to him in the elevator when they were alone, getting ready to blast him with both barrels, but Woody completely disarmed her as he said, "You've done a great job with Will, Jordan. No one could have done better. He's polite...smart…considerate….and he worries like hell about you. You know that, don't you?"

"I…I know. I tell him not to…I'm fine," she replied twisting her fingers together.

"And he listens about as well as you do." Woody sighed and rubbed the back of his neck as the elevator doors opened. "We have a hell of a lot of sorting out to do."

"Can't it wait until Will is out of the hospital?"

"No… I want to know now, Jordan. You've kept the truth from me for sixteen years. I deserve to know tonight….everything…have all my questions answered."

Jordan nodded and they walked in silence around the corner from the hospital into the restaurant. After they had ordered and the waiter brought their salads and drinks, Woody took a long pull off his beer and asked one simple question. "Why?"

"Why didn't I tell you?"

He nodded and looked deep into her eyes. "Why…everything. And start from the beginning."

Jordan took a deep breath to steady her nerves. "After….after…that night…" her voice wavered.

"The night we slept together…and Will was conceived?"

"Yeah. I didn't see you again and the next week, you were gone to San Diego. Do you remember what you told me?"

"No contact. It would be better for both of us. But I didn't mean …."

"Well, I didn't know that. And hind sight is twenty-twenty, Woody. After the fight we had … before you left…and then after what you said that night, especially after I told you that I loved you…" Jordan broke off then and looked away to gather her thoughts.

The fight. Woody remembered. He never forgot it. The tension had been building for weeks after he had gotten out of the hospital.

After the swelling had gone down in his spinal column, his nerves began to unfurl, and through a series of modern medical triumphs, he found himself walking again…out of the hospital and out of her life. But Jordan had been reluctant to let him go. "I mean what I said, Woody. I _do_ love you. I do. Please…"

He had let her pleas go unheeded and unheard. He had hardened his heart against her and was determined to go on with his life without her. He dated. Lots of women. Particularly women he knew that she _knew_…so that word would get back to her. He had wanted Jordan Cavanaugh to hurt as badly as he did.

He wanted to know he was the man that broke her heart…It was cruel. It was petty and childish and hurtful…but that had been what he wanted. Every man she had been linked with romantically had his emotions plowed under by her. Woody wanted to be the one to go against the flow.

He wanted to be the one that Jordan pined after, but couldn't have.

And from the sometimes hurt-filled looks she had cast his way, he knew he was being successful. It was these actions that led up to the argument they had about six weeks before that night in his apartment. He had a date…with a pretty assistant DA he knew Jordan disliked. He took the young lady out for drinks…to a bar he knew that Jordan and her friends frequently went to.

And that particular night, he shot and scored. Jordan was there. Woody played it up…slow dancing with his date the same way he and Jordan used to. And he had to give Jordan credit. She took it a lot longer than he would have. But somewhere between Woody's ordering another beer and dropping some coins in the juke box, Jordan had quietly paid her tab and slipped out into the cold Boston night before he registered she was gone.

Suddenly his date became a lot less attractive. He got the lady home as soon as politely possible. He had expected some sort of reaction out of Jordan….but not a disappearing act. And she really did seem to disappear. He didn't see her for a couple of weeks. Garret said she took a few days off to go out of town – she had some decisions to make.

Woody had feared she was getting ready to leave Boston…not that it should really matter to him. By that time he had already procured his job in San Diego. But Boston was her town…her safety net. Somehow, no matter how badly he felt he had been treated by her, he didn't want Jordan to feel she had to leave her home. So when he cornered her in her office one night after hours after she returned, he was going to tell her….he was leaving. Things would be easier for her.

She never gave him a chance. "Don't start with me," she warned. "Don't even go there, Farm Boy. You don't want me? You don't think I love you—that what I feel for you is pity? Then that's your loss. Just leave me alone. Period. You don't want to have any relationship with me….then I've got a newsflash, Wood…It's over. So you don't have to parade your girlfriends in front of me to prove your point."

"Jordan…it's not that…."

"No. It's over. You're right. We'd end up killing each other inside a week. I don't know why I even wasted my time…"

Woody had felt the frustration reach a boiling point in him then. "And I don't know why I wasted four years of my life pining over a woman who has the warmth of an iceberg, either. And the decision making capabilities of a three year-old. And forget a relationship with a man… she can't even stay on good terms with her own _father_…" Her sharp intake of breath made him realized he had just fired the ultimate lob that broke her heart and severed any relationship they might have maintained.

It was also that statement that brought a stinging slap to the side of his face. Her handprint remained visible on his check for an hour.

It was on his heart a lot longer. And his heart got slapped again a few days later when he saw Jordan and Jason at the coffee shop and she had casually introduced Woody to Jason as "one of the detectives I work with." Not a friend. Not an acquaintance. A fellow state employee….like all they ever had in common was the proverbial office gossip over the proverbial water cooler. And this time, the bruise she caused on his heart cut deeper. Jordan may have pushed him away before -- time and time again. But she had never pushed him away to find another man.

This time it was different. He could tell by the way Jason was looking at her – he thought the sun rose and set in Jordan. And Jordan appreciated the attention – soaking it up like a sponge.

In hindsight, Woody blamed himself for her action. Like a couple that had been married too long, he had begun to take Jordan for granted. He had always assumed, that after he had dated around a while, he would have taught her a lesson and could return to her. And she would take him back. She might fight it for a while.., and definitely make him grovel…but they'd end up back together. He had taken for granted that she would always be there for him to fall back on…even if he was in San Diego.

Seeing Jason kiss her good-bye outside the coffee shop had made him rethink that idea. He had taken Jordan for granted too long. She was getting on with her life. And so they had parted that day. Him with his Carmel Macchiato, and her with Jason. Until that night when her truck broke down, they didn't see or speak to each other.

"So…when did you find out you were pregnant?" he asked gruffly.

"About six weeks after you left."

"And it never occurred to you to call me?"

"Not…not after what you said."

"Obviously Jason knew…he let Will take his name…."

Jordan nodded. "I told Jason what happened. I had to. I figured he'd run for the hills, just like all the other men in my life. Instead…he took me in his arms and kissed me…said that it was okay. He'd take care of Will and I didn't have to tell you unless I wanted to. He asked me to marry him. And since he was the only man that had treated me decently … and I wanted my son to have a family…I said yes. We flew to Vegas the next weekend and were married in the same wedding chapel Elvis and Priscilla got married in." Her mouth quirked up at the corners, remembering how it happened. "Then…when we got home….Jason had to leave and go back to Iraq." Her head lowered as she fought to regain her composure. "He was gone about a year. He couldn't even come home when Will was born."

"But he knew Will was my son?"

"He knew. And it didn't matter. Jason had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known…except maybe our son." Jordan was struggling to keep the tears out of her voice and eyes.

Woody noticed. "So…what happened then, Jo?" he gently prompted.

"Will's pregnancy wasn't easy…I nearly lost him twice. He was born a couple of months early…with the whole slate of premature side effects….respiratory problems….possible heart, hearing, and sight problems. He was on a ventilator…oxygen. We worried about brain damage…" Jordan sighed and suddenly looked older than her years. It was only then Woody realized just how hard it must have been on her to carry Will by herself. "He came home on a monitor….it was touch and go for a while. Fortunately….once Dad caught one glimpse of his grandson, he never left Boston again. For a while, we lived with him. Then Jason made arrangements for us to move into our own place on Ward Street….good schools…near church…" Jordan twisted her fingers together again. "Then….when Will was about six months old…I got word that Jason was killed in the line of duty in Iraq. They said….they told me he died a hero." Jordan stopped then and bit out a bitter laugh. "He was a hero before then…a hero to me.

"Anyway," she continued, shaking her head…."I thought about telling you then…but Will still was pretty sick…and I was a widow…I knew you would think it was the classic set up…something to trap you into protecting me one more time even though DNA would back me up, and it wasn't a trap, it was the truth. So Dad and Garret told me to wait…"

"They knew …"

Jordan nodded. "I told Garret first….after I found out I was pregnant. He stood by me the whole time…before Dad came home and after. That's why he's Will's godfather. I told dad after Jason died."

"And Max didn't want me to know?"

"Given the circumstances, no. He thought you may still need sometime to cool off. And Will needed to get better. So I kept my mouth shut. And waited for the right time…"

"Which never came," Woody said flatly, stating the obvious.

"It wasn't like that…honestly. It's just working full time and raising a child takes a lot of time. And then Dad got sick…heart condition. So I had to deal with Will and Dad. And work….

"I know it's no excuse. And you're right…I should have told you earlier….but after a while it didn't seem to matter. From what I could find out, you were living the good life in California. You were successful…and the last I heard, engaged to some model. I didn't want to disrupt that with a phone call telling you, 'Oh, by the way, Wood, before you get all comfy cozy with your new wife and your own family, there's this little detail back in Boston you need to take care of'. I didn't want you to put your life on hold again for me. You did for four years before you left…and I didn't want to ask you to do that again."

Woody turned his beer bottle around in circles by the neck. "I would have helped out, Jordan."

"And what? Demanded joint custody in return? Fought to have Will taken away from me? Given what you thought about me before you left, you'd probably have me declared an unfit parent and have Will taken away," Jordan blurted out, her real fears showing through her bitterness.

"No…I just would want time with my son…and to help raise him…in everyway. I wouldn't take him away from you…"

"Really?"

"Really. I would have taken care of him…and you."

"Me?"

"I would have married you, Jo."

Jordan shook her head. "No. It would have never worked. I was never good enough for you."


	11. Former Lovers Present Parents

**Chapter Eleven**

**Former Lovers Present Parents**

"_I was never good enough for you."_

The bitter comment Jordan made right before their entrees came kept ringing through Woody's mind. For the rest of dinner and again right now, as he watched her sleep beside their son's bed.

Once the meal came, they had eaten quickly and mainly in silence. Woody absorbing what Jordan had just told him….and Jordan rushing through the meal as swiftly as she could in order to get back to Will. Once back at the hospital, Woody made sure an easy chair was brought in for her, as well as blankets and a pillow. When he had assured himself that Will and Jordan were fine, he told them good night, and eased out the door.

Only he had never left the hospital. He walked the surrounding sidewalks for two hours, then returned once more to Will's room…more to check on Jordan than his son. Her bitter comment, made almost in passing, _I was never good enough for you_, rankled him to no end.

Whatever gave her that idea? And was that the real reason she never pushed to inform him about Will? That Woody didn't think she was good enough…and would have fought to have their son removed from her custody?

And not good enough for what?

From the time Woody had known Jordan, she was a consummate ME. Okay, sometimes her tactics were a bit over the top….no, a lot over the top…but her pursuit of truth and justice could never be questioned. She dug up the details….and listened to them. And although at first, Jordan could seem a little harsh and rough around the edges, if she was your friend, there was no way you could ever doubt her loyalty. She'd be there for you … whether or not she believed you did the right thing or not. Just look how she stood by Garret.

And him. The Montgomery case came to mind. If it hadn't been for Jordan, Woody would be rotting away in some jail cell right now.

So what in the hell wasn't she good enough for?

He had a sinking feeling that deep down under his ruminations, he knew. She didn't think she was good enough to be his….girlfriend or his wife …and thought that Woody doubted she was good enough to be Will's mother

And he knew who gave her that idea.

He did.

He had rejected her….abruptly….in a way that would hurt her the most. He had assumed, by the time they had the fight in her office, that she had bounced back…decided the absence of her in his life was his loss. But she hadn't. It was all bravado. She was hurting then…and she had never gotten over that rejection.

And to tell you the truth, neither had he. He had gone out to San Diego with an ache in his heart…and other parts of his body remembering all too well what it was like to be with her…hold her….kiss her…make love to her. How she felt when she lost control with him….

He never forgot. Even after several years had passed and he found himself engaged to Kelly….a gorgeous photo model with strawberry blonde hair and green eyes. He had woken up next to her one day, three months before their wedding, and realized that no matter how hard he pretended, he was never going to roll over in the morning to find honey brown eyes and chestnut curls.

And he couldn't live with pretense and lies. He broke off the engagement and broke another woman's heart.

He had thought about re-establishing contact with Jordan then. Coming clean. Telling her the truth. But when he began to make discreet inquiries, he found out that her last name had changed. Turner. She was married. He dropped the idea of reconnecting with her. Will would have been about….seven then. He cursed himself for being a coward.

He could have saved all three of them what was adding up to be a world of hurt. He watched her stir in her sleep, struggling to get comfortable in an uncomfortable hospital recliner, sleeping beside their son's bed. Making sure Will was safe. Idly, he wondered how many sleepless nights Jordan had spent in the past, worrying over the well-being their child. He caught himself before he reached out and brushed a curl out of her face, as Will's parting words wafted through his mind one more time: _She doesn't realize she needs someone to take care of her, too, you know?_

Maybe they all three needed to take care of each other.

But first, they had to tell Will.

* * *

Jordan woke as the nurses changed shifts and the morning staff came into check Will over. She sat up and stretched, vaguely wondering if last night had been more of a dream than reality. The sight of Woody's jacket that he had accidentally left reassured her that their conversation wasn't a vision of the twilight zone. It had happened and was very real. Jordan slowly began realizing that her past wasn't in the past any longer, it had intruded on her present and all of their futures. Will was no longer just her child, but proof beyond all reasonable doubt that she and Woody had some sort of relationship at one time.

Even if it was a heated, passionate one-night stand that had cooled to freezing the minute the sun had come up.

She looked over at Will who was still sleeping through the blood pressure checks. "How is he?" she whispered to the nurse.

"Doing much better. I have a feeling after another lung x-ray, he'll get the 'all-clear' from Dr. Sullivan and can head home. Keep him quiet over the weekend and he can go to school on Monday."

Jordan nodded, thankful soccer season was now over and that was one battle she didn't have to face. Denying Will playing time would be tantamount to telling Nige he couldn't use the computers for a month.

She stood from the chair and stretched, then walked over to talk to her son, who was just beginning to wake up. "Hey sunshine," she greeted softly.

"Hmpf. Coffee?" he asked hopefully.

Jordan had to grin. He was as addicted to the stuff as she was. "I'll see what I can do. It won't be Starbucks…"

"Yeah, but it'll be caffeine. Is Detective Hoyt…Woody….still here?"

"No…he left last night after he brought me back to the hospital."

"Funny…I could have sworn I saw him early this morning, standing in the doorway looking at you."

Startled, Jordan just managed to cover her surprise. "I'm sure you were just dreaming, Will. They've had you on some strong meds."

Will nodded. "He said you two sort of dated before you met Dad," he continued on.

"He told you that?" _How dare he_, Jordan thought, thinking that Woody may have told Will more than he should have.

"Not exactly. I asked. He said you dated a little…and decided you were better as friends. You two hung out but didn't hook up," Will grinned, thinking about his mom and Woody together. He had a feeling his mom called the shots on most of the hanging out….just like she called the shots on most things now. He had always had a feeling his dad must have had strong powers of persuasion to even get his mom to slow down and even think about marriage….putting her trust in someone other than herself.

"He said that? Oh. Well….sort of. We worked together quite a bit before….before he left to go to San Diego."

"He's kind of nice, Mom. Maybe you two should thing about dating again."

Jordan swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, only to find it bobbing up again. "I…I don't think so, Will. I keep telling you, you're the only man I need in my life."

Will grinned. "Yeah, right. You need someone, Mom."

"We are not having this conversation right now, young man. I'm going to find some coffee…you're going to sit back and wait on Dr. Sullivan. Hopefully, we're going to be home by lunch time. And don't even ask me to go anywhere this weekend. Your butt will be in bed so that you can go to school on Monday. You have exams."

"Yep," Will leaned back in the bed, both hands behind his head. "And then three weeks off for Christmas."

Jordan was half-way out the door when she heard Will's words.

The holidays.

Shit.

She wondered just how wonderful and joyous they would be this year. Will would gain a father he never knew….

But in the process, find everything he thought to be true shook from its very foundations.

* * *

Woody glanced at his phone for the third time in less than thirty seconds.

"Looking at that thing it isn't going to make it ring," commented Framus, not glancing up from her computer screen.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked.

"Yeah…at least to me. So who are you waiting on to call you? The new chick from the DA's office…or the hottie you met in the bar last week that insisted on giving you her phone number?"

"You spend entirely too much time analyzing my love life, man."

"Nothing else to do with my time…and stop looking at your phone. Who are you expecting a call from, anyway?"

"Jordan." He said her name slowly and reluctantly, his tongue lingering over the two syllables.

"Doc C? Are you two on some case together?"

"No," he said just as reluctantly and slowly…not wanting to talk about it, but needing to confess to someone why he was so antsy and short-tempered this morning.

"What then? You make a pass at her and she turn you down….again? Some things won't change, Wood-man…"

"No….she's supposed to call me about Will. She had to take him to the hospital yesterday…and …."

"Will's in the hospital?" Framus asked anxiously. She got out of her chair and walked over to Woody's desk, perching on the side. "What happened?"

"His lung collapsed. He has Bullis Disease," Woody continued, not looking her in the eyes, fearing she may be able to read the truth there and he wasn't ready for that.

"Is he going to be okay?'

"Yeah…from what the doctors told us last night….he'll be able to control it with some pills."

"Told us? You were with them?"

"I was with Jordan when she got the phone call," Woody lied, hoping to cover his tracks. I followed her to the hospital."

"Oh." Framus seemed to digest this tidbit of information without question.

"Anyway, she's supposed to call me if they let him out today. I…I…just want to know."

Framus nodded before she slowly got up from Woody's desk. "I know….Will's a pretty special kid. Kept his mom sane after Jason died. He's been her reason to keep going. And in the process of growing up, he's been in and out of the morgue and here enough that most of us kind of consider him _our_ kid."

Woody tapped his fingers nervously on his desk top. He wanted to ask the next question, but didn't want to arouse Roz's suspicions. "I guess he was a lot like Jordan growing up."

Framus chuckled at the memories. "Curious, like her….had to have answers…precocious … sweet….loving….but he had this smile that could melt the hardest heart….I don't necessarily like kids, but Will had me from the first time I saw him. One thing about Will, though. He's Momma's boy. And I don't mean that in a sissy kind of way. I mean he loves Jordan…and looks after his mom." Framus slid from Woody's desk top and went back to her cubicle. "And if I were you, I'd call her. She may be so busy getting him back home she hasn't even thought about calling you yet."

Woody took her words to heart. He hit two on his speed dial. A few seconds later, Jordan was answering his call.

* * *

"Is he asleep?" Woody asked, after Jordan responded to his knock on the door. He had caught her with his phone call while she was signing the papers to get Will released from the hospital. She told him she would be in touch with him back as soon as she got Will home and settled.

"Yeah….his medicine kind of makes him groggy. He'll wake up in a little while," she replied ushering Woody into her living room, self-consciously moving her things off the couch to make room for him to sit down. "You're….you're welcome to stay until he wakes up."

"But the doctor says the meds should control his lungs? Keep them from doing this again?"

Jordan nodded. "They will help, and plus the fact that he runs and plays soccer….all that aerobic activity helps, too. That's what's probably kept him from having a collapsed lung before now." She sat down on the sofa beside Woody, trying not to appear too ill at ease. The last person she ever expected to be in her living room was Woodrow Wilson Hoyt.

Former lover. Present father of her son.

"I guess we need to talk," Woody said, sitting forward and propping his elbows on his knees.

Jordan nodded. "I've been thinking….I don't want to tell Will right now…"

"I agree. I think he needs to be a little stronger than he is right now before we tell him."

"But he needs to be told before takes his birth certificate and goes to try for his driver's license. I don't want it to be a total shock to him."

Woody nodded in agreement. "No….that would be really bad…."

"I'm glad you agree. So I was thinking right after Christmas, we could tell him," Jordan concluded.

Woody thought for a moment, not wanting to upset Jordan too much, but knowing what he felt in his heart. He slowly shook his head. "No. I've spent sixteen Christmases without my son. I want this one with him."


	12. The Lie of Parenthood

**Chapter Twelve**

**The Lies of Parenthood**

Despite all of the good intentions she had when she first found out she was pregnant, Jordan found herself repeating the same behaviors she had hated in her father and she promised herself she wouldn't repeat with her son.

Like discussing cases. Will had a natural curiosity. One that rivaled her own. And he had a subtle way of getting you to answer questions you really didn't want to…like his father. So when he would ask her what she was doing at work, she would end up telling him far more than she had intended to.

Or like behaving irrationally if he was more than fifteen minutes late with curfew. Her imagination would have the worse possible scenario playing out…just like her father had done with her…only to have Will waltz in the front door a few minutes later, perfectly fine with a perfectly sound excuse.

And she'd just be so thankful to see him, she wouldn't lecture him…just hug him close and tell him to get his butt up to bed.

But the most important thing she had promised herself was that she wouldn't lie to her son…not like her father lied to her. Oh, to be sure, there are always going to be the white lies of parenthood…Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny….the tooth fairy. But Jordan wasn't talking about those… she was taking about major lies and deception…like her father hiding the fact from her that she had a half-brother, James. Or that her mother had suffered a miscarriage that led to depression and worsened her mental illness.

Jordan had solemnly sworn to herself she would never repeat those mistakes with her son. A lot of good that had done her. She had kept Jason's military picture out after his death – to remind her of what a good man he was and how much she missed him. So at the tender age of ten months when Will looked at the photo and said "Da," she did nothing to correct him. And later, when he asked questions about the man in the picture, she never told him that Jason was his father. She referred to Jason as "my husband." Will assumed the man was his father. He had always referred to Jason as "Dad."

She had done nothing to correct him.

Which was as bad as lying to him…and maybe worse.

She knew the day would come when Will would know who his real father was. And as he got closer to sixteen, she had assumed that it would be when she had to give him his birth certificate…and the truth would be there in black and white. She knew he'd probably be angry at her…but also maybe relieved. He did have a father that was alive and one that he could touch, see, hear, and love. Jordan never doubted that Woody wouldn't return his son's affection. Despite all the grief between the two of them, she never doubted that Woody would accept his son.

What she had dreaded was explaining to Will why she took so long to tell him….that she was embarrassed at her behavior…that she had been so taken away by the moment that she didn't use protection and neither did Woody….

That she had misled him for so long.

And she certainly hadn't intended on telling Will with his father present. In her mind, they would work it out between the two of them and then Jordan would phone Woody and explain it to him.

Woody would catch a flight out, and he and his son would be reunited.

Instead, Woody was sitting across from her in a chair, nervously waiting on Will to come downstairs. She fidgeted on the couch, squirming just a bit from the anxiety of the moment, and Woody's eyes on her.

"If you'd have been honest with both of us years ago, we wouldn't have to do this," Woody said suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts.

"What choice did you give me? You said no contact…that was your decision."

"Yeah, but you know me well enough to realize that if there was a _child_ involved…."

"Well, I'm sorry…but Will's birth was so complicated…"

"He wasn't sick all his life…."

"Yeah, but by the time his health had settled down, Dad was sick…"

"And you couldn't take one minute to pick up the phone, call me and tell me.."

"Tell you what?" Will's voice suddenly over rode both of the bickering adult voices. "Tell you what?" he repeated, coming down the stairs. "What's going on? Why are you two arguing? Why should Mom have to tell you anything about me?"

Woody gave Jordan a glance that plainly told her this first move was hers. "Sit down, Will. I need to…we need to talk to you," she said quietly. Will slowly descended the rest of the stairs and came around to her side of the couch, dropping down on it. From the look in his mother's eyes, this wasn't going to be a happy conversation. Vainly he racked his brain for anything he had done wrong that could somehow involve Detective Hoyt.

"Ooookayyy…What did I do?" he asked, innocently.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Woody said, glancing again at Jordan.

"No…you didn't," Jordan agreed, seeing the confused look on her son's face. "This time….I did. I did something wrong…very wrong." She reached over for Jason's picture off the table behind the couch. "Who is this, Will?"

Will looked at his mother like she had slipped a gasket. "Jason Turner….my dad."

"I know….know…you've always said that. And I've done nothing to change your mind about that fact….but look at your birth certificate…" she handed him the folded piece of paper out of her pocket. She swallowed hard and saw Woody nervously stuff his hands in his pockets.

"No," was the quiet response that came from Will. "No….this can't be right…they made a mistake on my birth certificate…Mom…tell me this is a mistake."

"It's no mistake, son," Woody said just as softly. "I'm your dad."

Jordan watched the emotions play across her son's face….from astonishment….to fear….to anger. "Why…why haven't you, why didn't you…" his voice trailed off as he stood and looked Jordan in the eyes…for once in his young life using his height to deliberately tower over his mother. Then he swung towards Woody. "And why haven't you…where were you…." He sat back down on the couch in frustration.

"I only found out the other week when they put you in the hospital with Bullis Disease," Woody answered. Your mother had to tell me then…she needed to know if anyone in my family had it…since it is hereditary. That's how I found out. And it does run in my family. My brother…your Uncle Cal …has it."

"I have an uncle?"

Woody grinned slightly. "Yeah. Of sorts, anyway."

"Mom…why? Why haven't you said anything?" Her son's anguish broke her heart.

"It's complicated, Will…really complicated," she replied.

"So if you two did date before," he said turning back to Woody.

"No…no we really didn't…." Woody responded, not quite entirely sure how to steer this conversation.

"But what…happened."

Jordan took a deep breath and sat down beside her son, taking one of his hands in hers. "Do you remember what I've told you about relationships?" she asked. "How that sometimes…even if you really love and care for the other person – time, personalities, circumstances can keep you apart?"

Will nodded.

"Well…that's what happened with Detective Hoy…Woody and I."

"Yeah," Woody responded, dropping back into his chair. "I had a crush on your mom from the minute I saw her…"

"But I wasn't sure about him," Jordan replied, nodding at Woody. "So for three years, we kind of danced around each other….getting closer, then pulling away."

"Sometimes she was afraid of where our relationship was going, and sometimes I was," Woody added.

"But it was mostly me," admitted Jordan. "And then the day came…when Woody was shot…and was hurt really badly. We thought we might lose him. It was then that I realized what I really felt for him…that I had loved him…and I told him so…." She swallowed hard. She wondered if either of the men in the room realized how difficult it was on her to revisit her feelings for Woody. How it still made her heart hurt. "But…by that time, Woody was tired of waiting on me."

"I told her I wasn't interested in a relationship with her any longer," Woody said as gently as he could. "It was just….too late."

"The timing was all wrong…just like I've told you," Jordan said.

"So what? You two slept together to get it out of your system?" Will said bitterly, looking from his mother to …Christ, his _father_.

"No….it wasn't like that…" Jordan replied, unsure of where to go next with this conversation. All the books in the world written about raising teenagers didn't cover this topic. She was clueless on where to go next. She gave Woody a helpless look.

"No…..no…she's right, it wasn't. That night….the only time we were together…." Woody raked his fingers though his hair, as uncertain as Jordan was on how to steer the conversation now… "it just _happened._"

"Mom… you've always told me things like that don't just happen….you said…"

"I know what I said….but when the attraction is strong enough between a man and a woman…" Jordan began.

"Heaven and hell can't keep them apart forever," Woody ended, softly. "And that's what happened, Will. Your mom's truck broke down….I stopped to help her out….it was pouring rain….anyway, we ended up back at my apartment."

"So you were attracted to her…and she was to you. Why didn't you stick around after she found out she was pregnant?" Will asked, his voice still full of too many emotions to name.

"I never knew she was pregnant…" Woody said.

"He left before I even knew," Jordan said. "He had taken a job in San Diego. And when he left, we both agreed that we needed to have not contact with each other…to get over one another and move on with our lives."

"Then why …how…did Dad…Jason…come into the picture? Why do I have his last name?"

"Your da – Jason and I were friends….and were seeing each other already. When I told him I was pregnant, he wanted to marry me….so he could take care of me and you….when he got back from Iraq and so we all would have the same last name," Jordan finished.

"Even though I wasn't his?" Will asked, fighting the tears back.

"It didn't matter to him. He loved you from the beginning," Jordan said, fighting her own round of tears over the memory of Jason's concern and tenderness.

"So why wait so long to tell me, Mom….Why?"

Jordan covered her face with her hands for a minute. This was so complicated….and was a sixteen year-old boy really going to understand? Well, if she was going to be honest with him, she may as well be honest with the whole story.

"It was easier to keep putting it off. First, you were so sick when you were born, and several year afterwards, that getting you well and keeping you well was the most important thing on my mind and everyone else's. Then Grandpa got sick."

"I remember." And Will did. They nearly had moved back in with Max so Jordan could take care of him. "But after that?"

"I knew a couple of things. First, I had tried to make contact with Woody when you were about six. I found out he was engaged …and I didn't know how he would take it…if he thought I was trying to manipulate him back into a relationship because perhaps I was jealous. Second, I was afraid he might try to take you away from me…"

Will gave Woody a hard look. "Take me away from Mom?"

"Will, I would have never tried to do that. Ever. I would have wanted to see you….but never take you away."

"But I didn't know that," Jordan continued. "Woody and I fought before he left….so we didn't part on the best of terms."

"And you have to remember that I knew that there was that possibility we could have a child…I never stopped to call your mom afterwards….to check and make sure everything was alright," Woody concluded. "So, it's not all your mom's fault."

Dead silence ringed the room for a few minutes as the three of them wordlessly looked at each other, digesting everything that had just been said. Will finally became aware, through the thick cloud of his own thoughts, that the two adults were warily looking at him. He finally stood and shoved both of his hand in his jean pockets. "I don't know what to say," he finally said. "I mean, I trusted you, Mom. I always believed everything you told me. I mean, I sort of see where you are coming from…but still…that man," he motioned towards Woody with his head. "is my _dad_. And you didn't tell me.

"And you…" he said, looking at Woody, his eyes narrowing. "I'm not sure how I feel about a man who knew he could have gotten my mother pregnant and then didn't have the balls to stop and call her to make sure she was okay. Especially after you knew she loved you, then slept with her…then told her not to contact you. You're a real winner, you know that?

"So…I'm not sure how I feel about this whole _family_ thing right now. Or even if I want to be a part of it. I think I'm going to spend the night at Matt's house tonight. I'll talk to both of you tomorrow…after I've had some time to think."


	13. For Will's Sake

**Chapter Thirteen**

**For Will's Sake**

Christmas came and went without much change between Jordan, Woody, and Will. She had bought Will an iPod. Woody gave him money. Will had been cordial, polite…but distant. Jordan tried to respect the fact that her son had been hit with the mother-lode of DNA information and was still processing it all. It wasn't an instant family just because a daddy had been added to their mix.

In short, neither of the men in her life was talking to her much. She remembered all those Bible verses about reaping and sowing that the nuns made her memorize and assumed they were coming back to roost like so many multiplying sorrows. She had sowed lies and was now reaping dishonesty's aftermath. It would be easy to blame her life's circumstances as the reason why she didn't tell Will about Woody…or Woody about Will. Will's birth and the myriad of health issues it raised…the difficult life of single motherhood … Woody's engagement and assumed marriage….Max's illness … the list could go on and on.

But the truth was, Jordan had been afraid.

Yes. She, Jordan Marie Cavanaugh Turner, had been afraid. Afraid of losing her son to his father. However irrational it sounded, that was the base reason she hid the truth from both men. Jason's proposal had given the opportunity to have the best of both worlds…companionship with a man she respected … and the opportunity to raise her son with an intact family.

And she could leave Woody alone as he requested. He need never know about his son…he would never come back into her life and possibly try to take their son away from her. Instead it had all blown up in her face. Jason was killed. And Jordan had to deal with two new titles in her life: mother and widow.

The shrill ringing of her cell phone brought her out of her thoughts as she was sitting unseeing in front of her computer screen. "Turner," she said into the device.

"Mom?"

"Will … are you okay? Is anything wrong?"

"I'm fine….just fine. I would like to talk to you and Woo…Dad. Could you meet me at Brown and Company for lunch?

* * *

Before Jordan knew it, she was sitting beside Woody at Brown and Company, with Will sitting across from them. After ordering drinks, a few minutes of awkward silence ensued, until Will took the reigns.

"I wanted to talk to both of you at the same time…because it would just be easier. I guess I sort of understand why you didn't tell Woo…Dad about me, Mom. At least at first, but eventually, it should have been my decision on whether or not to contact him. And you have to know I would have," he began.

"I know, Will. I'm sorry…I can't say anything other than I am truly sorry…I guess I wasn't thinking…but I guess I was selfish, too. I didn't want to have to share you with anyone else," Jordan interrupted.

Will held up a hand. "Let me finish. You've known about this for awhile. Dad and I just really found out about it.

"I love you, Mom. You've done a great job under some really tough circumstances. You've always been there for me…and always will. And I don't plan on going anywhere in the near future except for the UMass. If they'll have me. But I want to get to know my dad. And you've got to accept that. You had to know when I did find out about Woody, I'd want to get to know him."

Jordan nodded. That much she had expected.

"And, Woody…Dad….you have to know that this doesn't make me want to choose sides. She's my mom…and we've been through some tough times together. What happened doesn't make me love her less…it just makes me wonder why…Why she didn't feel comfortable telling you about me and why you didn't check back with her to make sure everything was okay with her. I want to get to know you…there's a lot of ground to catch up on…but I want to do this my way…and that's slowly."

"Okay, Will…I can get that…" Woody said.

Will held up his hand again. "I'm not finished. Now that I have two parents, I am assuming you're both going to want to do the mom-and-dad thing….be at games together, PTA's, all that stuff that regular families do…all that stuff that Mom's had to sort of do alone…So here's the ground rules. You two have to get along. No snide comments….no cutting each other down…at these events, or in front of me or my friends. Somehow, someway….you two are going to have to work it out so that you remain at least civil and things are comfortable while we're together. I don't want to end of being one of those kids who have to have two birthday dinners, or both parents can't be at the same school activity, because their split-up parents can't at least get along with each other for a couple of hours. Is that clear?"

"Yeah," Jordan said, looking over at Woody to see how he was taking their son's usual bluntness.

Woody nodded. "No problem."

"Good," Will answered with a smile. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go eat with Stephanie."

"Stephanie?" Jordan asked.

"Yeah…she's new…" Will said, getting his drink and leaving the table. Woody's eyes followed him across the room to a booth where a pretty blonde sat.

"Is he always like that?" he asked Jordan.

"What…blunt or flirting?"

"Both."

"Then yes, and yes. He was born with my ability to be blunt…and probably Cal's ability to womanize."

Woody groaned. "And you got him through puberty, how?"

Jordan grinned. "It wasn't pretty."

Woody chuckled. "He's an amazing kid, Jo."

She blew out a breath she felt she had been holding for sixteen years. "He is. He's taking it a lot better than I expected he would."

Woody was silent a minute as he traced the rim of his iced tea glass with his finger. "So…what do we do now? Decide who gets what weekend….do I plan on paying child support…how does this go from here?"

"I think we need to let Will decide the weekend thing. And a far as child support goes….I don't need it. I've always been able to take care of Will."

"Is that the reason you wanted Garret's job so badly? The higher salary?"

"I can't deny it's not a big part of the reason, because it was."

"I'll help you with him now, Jordan. And try to make up for lost time."

Jordan absent-mindedly shredded her napkin. "We're fine…just if he mentions needing something, you may want to pick it up…and if it sounds out of the ordinary, give me a call and I can verify it. Then I guess we can split the cost of big ticket items, like his class ring, trips….and college."

Woody was silent for a moment. "So how do you feel about this?" he asked quietly. "How do you feel about having me back in your life? I mean…at this level?"

"I guess it's better this way. Will gets to see more of you…I always assumed I'd be putting him on a plane a couple of times a year for San Diego."

"Instead you have me in Boston, being able to drop in and out of your house and life at a few minutes notice…how are you going to handle that?"

"It will be convenient for Will…"

"But what about you?"

"I won't be paying air fare."

"That's not what I mean…now I'll always be in your life...we have a son together….how's you're personal life going to take this?"

"Ah… you mean my social life…Will is my social life. He's the only man I need in my life until he's twenty-one."

"Glad to hear it…"

"Really? You don't think I can be a good mother and date, too?"

Woody shook his head. "No, that's not it. If you're not dating anyone…and I'm not either…maybe we should get married…for Will's sake."


	14. White Knights and Denial

**Chapter Fourteen**

**White Knights and Denial**

Jordan opened her mouth and closed it. Then she did it again. "What in the hell ever gave you the idea that I would marry you just because we have a kid together?"

"Just that….we have a child…a son…and he needs his family."

"And he has it. You. Me. Him. If the family image thing bothers you so bad, I'll even buy him a dog, but I'm not marrying anyone. I've made it sixteen years without a husband and a full-time father for Will. I'm in the home stretch now….In five years he'll be twenty-one. Why in God's name do I need a husband?"

"It's not so much you need a husband, it's that Will might want his father around full time."

"You can see him as much as you want to. I won't make an issue out of visitation." Jordan fumbled through her purse for money for her lunch. Finding a ten, she threw it on the table and stood. "Hell, even buy the house next door…I don't care…" She nearly ran out of the restaurant, unaware that Woody was close on her heels. Putting his hand on her arm once they had gotten outside, he whirled her around to face him.

"Would it be so bad…being married to me? At one time, I thought you'd jump at the chance," he said referring to her confession years ago.

"That was then….and that was a long time ago. This is now. Will needs you as his father, and I'm fully ready to let you play that role. I don't need a man …a husband….and I don't need you like that." She tried to pull away, but Woody kept his hand on her arm.

"I meant what I said the other day, Jo. If I would have known about Will from the beginning, we wouldn't remotely be having this discussion. I would have married you and taken care of you and Will. I still am ready to do that."

"I don't need chivalry, Woody. I don't believe in White Knights any longer," Jordan's voice took a bitter edge and lowered. "The last White Knight I knew died in Iraq years ago."

"Jason…"

"Yes," she said, looking into Woody's eyes. "Jason. He cared about Will before he was born…and he cared about me….even thought he was gone during the pregnancy, he was in constant contact….especially when I was put on bed rest…when we thought we had lost Will. He wanted to make sure we both were taken care of…and he had such plans for us when he got back…." Her voice lowered again with her eyes.

Woody gently took her by the arms, his hand sliding down her shoulders to her elbows. "I would have done the same thing if I would have only known, Jordan. I would have been here for you and Will."

"But you said…"

"I know what I said. I had just hoped you knew me well enough to realize I didn't mean it."

"Sorry," she said, the bitterness becoming apparent in her tone again. "I didn't …and don't….and there's really no use in continuing this conversation. It's water under the bridge…the past….over and done with. The best thing we can do right now is what Will has asked us to do. Get along well enough that he doesn't have to worry about us biting each other's heads off when we're all together."

"My offer stands, Jordan."

"Marriage? Sorry, no. Not to you…not to anyone. I've been on my own…alone…too long to even contemplate holy dreadlock. There are no more White Knights out there….chivalry…romance….love….is dead. At least to me."

* * *

_And it was and is…dead_…Jordan thought to herself as she made her way back to the morgue. All those feelings, dreams, were dead to her. They died the minute Woody had kicked her out of his hospital room years before. It had taken her four years and God only knows how many levels of denial to work through, but when she told him that she loved him, she had meant it.

And never recanted.

Jason had known this…he knew how broken hearted Jordan was before she discovered she was pregnant, and like the good man that he was, he was trying to prop her up emotionally until she could walk on her own. It had been bad enough when Woody kicked her out of his hospital room. It was worse after they had made love and he revealed to her he was leaving Boston and wanted no further contact with her. Her unplanned pregnancy had thrown her for such an emotional loop that Jason feared she wouldn't recover. He had talked her into marrying him….the reluctance on her part tangible, but the necessity on his part had persuaded her to follow through.

And it wasn't as though she didn't have feelings for the man. In her own way, she had admired, respected, and had great affection for Jason. But not the way she had Woody. No, not the way she did Woody, she corrected herself. What she had felt for Jason paled in comparison to the feelings of passion…the depth of love she once held for Woody.

Still did, if she was honest with herself. But she wouldn't marry him just due to the fact they had a child together. To look at him day after day and know that the only reason they were together was because Will was there would only eat her alive from the inside out. The best she could hope for and would hope for was a relationship with him as the mother of their son. At least that was permanent and unchangeable. She would always be Will's mom…Woody would always be his father.

She may still have feelings for Woody…somewhere, buried beneath all those years of loneliness…but as frightened as she was of losing Will to his father, she was even more afraid of losing her heart to Woody again.

* * *

Woody watched her walk away, any parting speech he may have wanted to say blown off by her words and the bitterness in her voice. He had always known Jordan was cynical…but the edge to her voice surprised him…and made him worry.

He had never known her to be this…cold. He found his car and made his way back to the precinct…thinking about what all had happened to Jordan over a sixteen year time period….the death of her husband…the traumatic birth of her son…then nearly losing him…then Max.

No wonder she was just a little bitter. And she had been right…with the exception of Will, she had been alone most of her life, having only herself and her wits to depend on. He could only imagine the fear and isolation she must have felt as a young single mother with a son in fragile health. Woody sighed as he reached his office and made his way to homicide. No wonder Will and Jordan were so close. Framus had been right. Will looked after Jordan because they were everything to each other.

Until now. He was here now. And while he was no knight in shining armor, he loved his son and wanted to make sure Will was well taken care of. And he wanted to make sure Jordan was taken care of.

Because if the truth had to be told….he loved her, too.


	15. Lean on Me

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Lean On Me**

Time has a way of evening things out and cooling tempers off. As the weeks passed and Woody became more familiar with the rhythm and rhyme of the Turner household, he was able to better function as Will's father and Jordan's…._friend_?

To be honest, he really wasn't sure what he was to Jordan.

When they worked together as detective and ME, she was professional beyond reproach. When they were together as parents, she polite, civil…nice. And as more time went by, he could slowly feel the ice beginning to melt around the edges of their peculiar relationship.

He made no further mention of marriage, imagining that this may be as far as she was ever going to be willing to take this relationship. He had hurt her in the past…badly. He never realized just how much badly until their conversation over lunch. Jordan had no desire to be placed in a position to revisit old hurts. Woody didn't blame her.

Because neither did he.

But as the days clicked off, both of them found themselves in an old, familiar routine of unspoken dependency. Woody depended on Jordan to clue him in about Will, as well as cases they worked together on. And Jordan, whether she would admit it or not, came to rely on Woody to be there…to pick up Will from spring soccer practice when she had to work late or make sure he had dinner if she wasn't home.

A symbiotic relationship at best…as both of them were guarding their hearts closely. But a relationship of sorts, nevertheless. And it worked. They were both content with how things were going…at least in the beginning.

Woody, being Woody and the type of person he was at the core, knew what he felt for Jordan had never really died…it had gone underground…hid out….went into remission, but nearly the minute he had seen her after returning to Boston, it had resurfaced. Love, true love anyway, he mused to himself, must be like that.

However, Jordan seemed oblivious to his feeling….either by force of old habits, or the sheer desire to remain safely in denial. Risking her heart wasn't worth the possible pain he may cause her again.

So Woody let the weeks go by…hoping that time and circumstance would be his friends this go 'round. That maybe…given enough of both, something would happen to allow them to both face their true feelings.

* * *

Spring was reluctantly coming to Boston. And winter seemed just as unwilling to leave. Besides her dealings with Woody, if Jordan had to look back at that year and remember anything it was just how ill everyone seemed to stay. Will…the morgue staff…the flu lingered and caused more fatalities than normal.

Now she had a cold. A bad one. She took over-the-counter remedies…and tried to stay in as much as possible. She'd get better and then get worse. Above all she tried to hide it from Will, who had an endearing ability to worry about her constantly if she was sick.

And she had been darned successful. So far. Until one Saturday afternoon when Woody was bringing Will home from soccer practice. She had just slid a pizza out the oven for lunch for the three of them, as she heard them come in the back door. "Take your cleats and things upstairs," she called to Will.

"Okay…smells good, Mom. What's for lunch?"

"Pizza..."

"Good. Got root beer?"

"Six pack of IBC…"

"Cool…."

Jordan heard her son's voice drift upstairs as he headed for his room. Woody lingered in the kitchen for just a minute. "How was practice?" she asked, hoping to keep the conversation light….and his visit as brief as possible. She wasn't feeling well again. If she could get Woody to leave after lunch and then let Will go to the movies with his friends, she was going to go back to bed and see if she could get to feeling better.

"He's doing well…got some serious moves on the field. I imagine he'll get more playing time this season…"

"That's what the coaches have told me…."

Woody nodded, absent-mindedly sliding his hands in his jean pockets. "Are you okay, Jordan…you look a little flushed."

"Must be the heat from the oven…"

Woody raised an eyebrow. "How's the cold?" he asked moving over to stand beside her.

"Better," she said, lying through her teeth. "Stay for lunch? I've got plenty."

"Thanks, but I've got a few things I need to do this afternoon," he replied, sneaking a piece of pepperoni off the pizza and popping it in his mouth.

She was going to tease him about eating and running…that it wasn't polite and to sit down and have a couple of slices of pizza wasn't going to take that long….she honestly was…but when she opened her lips, suddenly her world went black. The last thing she heard was Woody's frantic "Jordan," before she found herself slipping off into a dark world of blessed peace.

* * *

"Pneumonia…. Both lungs," the doctor pronounced at the emergency room.

Woody ran a hand down his tired face and tightened the grip he had with the other hand on Will's shoulder. "What…what now?" he asked.

"We'll keep her in the hospital a few days…with a couple of antibiotic drips…she'll be able to go home probably by Tuesday…but she'll be in bed for a while. I don't know how she made it this long without collapsing," the doctor replied.

"Can we see her?" Will asked. Woody thought he had never heard a voice filled with so much fright. After Jordan had collapsed in the kitchen, Woody had frantically dialed 911 and called for Will. Woody had gotten her to the couch, and one touch to her forehead let him know she was burning with fever. The trip to the emergency room seemed to take forever…and he found out that Will possessed his father's ability to pace without ceasing if nervous.

"Let admitting get her settled in her room and then you both can go up," the doctor replied before turning his attention to another patient.

So they paced and waited …until a nurse told them Jordan was ready. Her room was 412, go up and see her, but don't stay long or tire her out. She needed to rest.

Jordan's eyes were closed when they entered her room. Without hesitation, Will went over to her and took her hand. "Mom?" he questioned softly.

"Sweetheart," Jordan mumbled, struggling to open her eyes.

"You scared me..."

"Sorry. Don't know what happened…"

"Yeah…you didn't do too much for me, either," Wood joined, taking her other hand gingerly….this was the arm that had the IV drips in them.

Jordan shook her head as if to fightoff the feeling of haziness that seemed to be surrounding her. "Not sure what it is….I haven't really felt good in a couple of weeks. But I've never had a cold this bad…or the flu."

"It's neither," Woody replied. "You've got pneumonia."

"What?"

"You heard me. Pneumonia. The doctor said you'll be here until at least Tuesday…and then bed rest for a while. And no arguments. This one time, you'll do what I say." He softened his words with a smile…one so like their son's that Jordan felt her heart melt just a little.

"Will…you'll stay with Will?"

Woody nodded. "Of course. Anything else?"

"Call Garret. I'm going to need him to cover for me at the morgue."

"Good as done. Just don't worry. Will and I have everything under control. You just rest and get better…we'll be back later." Woody brushed her curls away from her face and bent down to gently kiss her forehead. "Concentrate on getting well…that's all I ask."

Jordan nodded and felt herself drift back off…glad for one more time in her life there was someone there she could depend on….and glad that this time that someone was Woody.


	16. Spoil Me

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Spoil Me**

She was well enough Tuesday that the doctor said she could go home. Woody came to pick her up – he had been at the hospital everyday. "Thanks," she said when Woody got her home, a little out of breath and tiring more quickly than she thought she would.

"No problem," he replied. "You need to get up to bed…don't worry about anything. I've got dinner and Will's soccer practice covered."

Jordan nodded and leaned against the wall just a minute to get her breath and her bearings. The next thing she knew, Woody was carrying upstairs. "Woody…no….your back," she protested.

"My back has been fine for years…you, however…" he said as he carried her into her bedroom and laid her on her bed, "need to rest." He pulled the afghan at the bottom of the bed up over her. "And don't get up until I tell you to." He gave her a comical leer, "Do you know how long I've wanted to tell you that?"

Jordan chuckled along with him, but felt a tell-tale blush come to her cheeks. Suddenly she felt thirty-one again and she and Woody were back to that dance they once did all too well. She obediently curled up under the afghan. He sat down beside her. "Will you be okay by yourself while I go down stairs and start dinner and the laundry?"

"Gee, Woody, you're going to make someone a wonderful wife one day," she teased back.

"Funny, Jordan. Ha, ha."

"And I bet you look cute as can be in a pink, frilly apron…"

"And if you didn't have pneumonia…."

Jordan's chuckling brought on a fit of coughing. Before she knew what was happening, Woody had her in his arms, holding her against him. "Hey…you going to be okay?" he asked softly, gently rocking her.

His closeness hit her body like a jolt of electricity when she least expected it. His physical proximity, coupled along with the smell of his cologne made for a potent mix that caused her heart to skip a beat. Instead of pushing away, she held on to him until her coughing stopped … and a few seconds afterwards. "Better?" he asked anxiously.

Jordan nodded against his chest, still holding on to him. "I am now."

"Need me to stay with you a while?"

"No, I think I'll be okay…" she answered reluctantly releasing him.

He tenderly laid her back down and tucked the afghan around her. "Your _wife_ will be downstairs taking care of things," he said jokingly. "I'll be back in a little while to check on you." He smoothed her hair off her forehead.

When he came back, Jordan was sound asleep, still curled up in the afghan. Woody smiled to himself. He wasn't sure what happened or what he did to make her walls come back down, but he was set on storming the castle now…and taking no hostages.

* * *

He had only meant to stay a week with Jordan and Will…in their guest room. Just long enough for Jordan to get her bearings enough that she could handle being out of bed for a couple of hours at the time. But he failed to estimate the force of pneumonia. And he had seriously underestimated his desire to stay…and Will persuasion to keep him there.

And what surprised him perhaps the most was that Jordan never encouraged him to leave. Even though she slept most of the time, either upstairs in her bedroom or downstairs on the couch in the family room, she seemed happy that he was there…with her. Content in their closeness. For a woman who had protested her desire for marriage or anyone in her life, it appeared to Woody all too clearly that she was in no hurry for him to go back to his house.

He didn't want to break the spell. As long as Jordan would let him stay … he was there. He held her through her coughing fits…and got up with her at night when she was achy and not feeling well again. "Why are you doing this?" she asked him suddenly, one afternoon when he had brought her laundry to her bedroom.

"Well… the clothes needed washing…."

"No…that's not what I meant and you know it. Why are you doing this….staying here with me?"

"You're sick….and you need me.

"I have a feeling you're doing nothing but spoiling me."

"Maybe you need to be spoiled."

"Me?"

"Yes you. Jordan Marie Cavanaugh Turner. When's the last time you let someone take care of you for a change?"

Jordan was silent for a moment. "It's been a while."

"Maybe you should try it more often. It looks good on you."

Jordan gave him a look that told him she clearly thought he had lost his mind.

"I mean it," Woody said, coming over to her bed to sit beside her, taking her hands. "You've changed, Jordan. I saw it as soon as I came back to Boston. You were warmer...not as edgy. I didn't know what to contribute it to then, until I met Will. Motherhood made you better. But even with Will, you've been so darned independent that it was hard to get close to you. Being in a put in a position where you need someone…me, to be exact, makes you seem….softer….easier to get close to you. If that's spoiling you, then maybe you should let me spoil you more often."

Woody's frank admission threw Jordan. For a moment she was speechless, her eyes mirroring more emotions than Woody could put his finger on. Her lungs were having a hard time functioning. "Oh," was the only thing she could get out of her mouth.

"I should get back to the laundry," Woody said softly, wanting his words to have a while to sink into her consciousness. He tried to release her hands, only to find her holding on tightly to him.

"Stay….please?"

"Jordan…I'm not sure that's such a good idea right now…." Woody knew his weakness – her.

She lowered her eyes in confusion. Was he rejecting her again? Would she ever be good enough?

"If I stay, I'm not going to want to leave…"

She met his eyes then. "What if I said I don't want you to leave?"

"Jordan…" her name came out in a whisper then…the same kind of whisper she remembered back at his apartment so many years ago…the kind she heard in her dreams for so many years afterwards. She nodded.

The kiss that followed spanned more than the sixteen years they had been apart…it rejoined what should have never been separated. He did more than reclaim her lips…he reclaimed her. "It's been too long," he murmured in her ear as he streaked a line of kisses down her neck to the curve of her shoulder.

"Mmmmmm." She tilted her head to give him better access. She was having a hard time breathing and she had a feeling it had nothing to do with her pneumonia. When his hands reached for the buttons on her shirt, one coherent thought ran through her mind. "Will?" she asked.

"Spending the night at Matt's."

"Ah." He had her shirt off by then. She returned the favor, peeling his t-shirt off his chest and trailing a line of kisses along his collarbone. He struggled with the hooks of her bra for a moment, finally getting the lacy scrap off and pulling her down on top of him on the bed. One hand anchored itself in her long hair as he kissed her and the other liberally explored her waist and hips, sending streaks of anticipation through her. She moaned softly against his mouth.

That was enough for Woody. He rolled her under him, anchoring her there with his hips. His eyes held the age-old question. Jordan smiled and whispered against his lips, "Spoil me some more….please?"

Woody chuckled as he tugged her pants down. "Whatever you want." He ran one hand from her knee to her thigh to lightly cup her bottom and hold her closer to him.

"Whatever I want?"

"Within reason….I mean you've been sick."

"And suddenly I feel much better…."

"Mmmm…I've always thought you've felt pretty good…."

"Woody!" Jordan smiled up at him, noting the light in his eyes and his dimples. If she could have anything she wanted, she'd start with this...

* * *

Will wasn't sure exactly how or when it happened, but the atmosphere around his parents changed. He really didn't notice it at first, chalking it up to his mother's recent illness and his father's natural concern for her. They had always been civil and polite around each other, but somewhere, sometime their relationship changed.

He first became cognizant of it one evening when he came in from a date and found them both lying on the couch, Jordan's back to his father's chest, supposedly watching a movie. Every few minutes Woody' hand would reach up to gently stroke his mother's hair and kiss her head. She finally looked back at him and Woody softly planted a kiss on her waiting lips.

Will groaned. "Get a room," he said, making his way up the stairs to his bedroom.

"Not a bad idea," Woody called back to his son.

"Dad! Gee…."

On a Saturdayevening a few months later, things shifted again. Will bolted downstairs to spend his usual weekend night with his friends only to find his father adjusting his tie in the hall mirror. "What gives?" Will asked Woody. "Why are you so dressed up?"

"Taking your mother out to dinner," Woody replied, finally satisfied with the way his tie looked and now gave his hair another go.

"Must be a fancy place…" Will propped against the wall, watching his father.

"It is…"

"Special occasion?"

"You might say that…"

Will was silent for a moment. "Is this the point where I'm supposed to ask you embarrassing questions like 'What are your intentions with my mother'?"

Woody grinned at his son. "You can…I won't promise to answer….but let's just say they are honorable."

A noise behind them caused both of the men to turn around. Jordan came down the stairs, dressed in red…Woody's favorite color on her. Will didn't think he had ever seen his mother looking lovelier….or in such a….revealing dress. Skeptically he raised an eyebrow at Woody. "Honorable?" he questioned him. "And don't you have a sweater or something to wear with that?" he asked Jordan, turning his attention to his mother.

"I hope to God not," Woody replied, taking Jordan by the arm. "Be back home by midnight, Will….and don't wait up."

* * *

But Will did…wait up. When his mother and father came through the door slightly after two, he played it up for all it was worth, threatening to ground Jordan if she was ever that late again.

Laughing at her son, she reminded him of the weekends she had stayed up and waited on him…"And I have a darn good reason for being so late," she said, holding out her left hand where a diamond solitaire winked on her finger.

"I told you my intentions were honorable," Woody teased.

Will wrinkled his brow and frowned. "Well….now I don't know how I'll do it….You've really messed me up, you know that, don't you?"

"Beg your pardon?" Jordan asked. "What…"

"How am I supposed to give the bride away and be the best man?" Will asked, hugging both of his parents. "Congratulations."

"I guess we could go to Vegas or something," Jordan began.

"No. Not a chance. A church wedding…flowers….a reception…everything," Will said, yawning, making his way upstairs to bed. "The whole nine-yards."

"And our son has spoken," Wood replied softly. "Seems you have two men in your life who want to spoil you, Jordan Marie."

"Hmmm…but right now, I just want you to."

"No problem," Woody said loosening his tie and following her upstairs, infinitely glad to do what she asked…and infinitely glad that after all these years they were finally right where they needed to be…together…no longer alone…dreaming and planning together.


End file.
